


Hang in There, Kid

by Jamjali



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, NSFW, Racist Merle Dixon, dom-sub elements I guess, dub-con, first fanfic so still getting the hang of tags, racist - misogynistic - homophobic language (Merle alert), yes it's porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamjali/pseuds/Jamjali
Summary: A night to remember at the CDC.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrowSaystheCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrowSaystheCat/gifts).



> Ideated and requested by the lovely MrowSaystheCat.  
> Originally posted on The Yeun Ones' subsection The Writer's Hive (visible to registered users) starting from August 14, 2017.  
> No idea how many chapters this will have yet; should span from the 1st season of TWD to at least the 7th though.

  
  
  
“Hot water?!”  
Glenn couldn’t believe doctor Jenner’s words. Didn’t even think he’d ever experience such a luxury in that broken, new world.  
He didn’t shy away from taking his sweet time, the thought of having to save water not crossing his mind even once, as he was completely raptured by his enthusiasm.   
Hot water spraying him from head to toe, a sensation he hadn’t felt in ages and in which he completely lost himself.  
He reclined his head, relishing the hot drops hitting his face and trickling down his neck and shoulders.   
  
  
“You goin’ to shampoo anytime soon?” shouted a sharp voice immediately outside.  
Glenn turned around so fast he slipped and hit the shower walls, before turning off the water and slightly opening the shower door.   
“Are you crazy?” he asked, before even making sense of who’d spoken.   
A well-built body stood shamelessly stark naked before him. Daryl crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Just waitin’. Thought you’d drowned in there, Kid.”  
Glenn gulped and apologized, prompting the other man to let out a chuckle that confused him and mildly annoyed him at the same time.  
“What’s so funny?”  
“Yeah, you keep that spunk. I’m comin’ in.”  
  
  
Before Glenn could protest, the taller man strode before him and burst open the shower door, never breaking eye contact, stopping just a few inches apart.  
The younger man didn’t dare cast his eyes down and verify if Daryl was hard; he himself was starting to feel an erection looming upon him, and mentally cursed himself, hoping not to get discovered. Hard chance. True, they were both naked, but it wasn’t like Daryl would look there, right? Why would he?  
Oh God, how much wine was still in his system? He’d never drink again.  _Ever_.  
  
  
The shower door clicked shut and hot water rushed again to wake the young man from his internal monologue.  
A long, toned arm extended over Glenn’s shoulder, as Daryl’s eyes pierced through his.   
He got some soap from the dispenser behind Glenn and rubbed it in his hands, before slathering it on his arms, still staring into the other’s deep brown eyes, daring them to keep contact.  
Glenn couldn’t figure out if his attitude was hostile, predatory, mocking, or…  
  
  
“Why are you here?”. Damn it, his voice broke.   
Blue eyes still looked at him unblinkingly. Was there an inkling of amused pity? Great.  
“To wash dirt off. You countin’ stars here?”  
“No, I mean, why are you here in my shower…” A laugh interrupted him.  
“Your shower? Man, you really are somethin’. I don’t see no Chinaman written anywhere.”  
The Asian man couldn’t help clenching his fists. “Well, it’s my room and-“   
“No, it ain’t. It’s  _our_  room. This ain’t the Hilton. Also, doc said to go easy on the hot water, ain’t gon’ hurt to share.”  
  
  
Oh, right. Glenn wasn’t drunk enough to not feel guilt creeping up now. His mind started racing. Was he really going to have to share his room with Daryl?  
It’d make sense to share resources, considering the limited power and everything. Why not Dale or T-Dog though? Whose choice was that? Was there a vote? Why hadn’t they asked him?  
“Look at this Kid.” thought Daryl to himself, taking advantage of the younger man being momentarily lost in his own thoughts to scan his whole body, more athletic than it looked when clothed.  
A smirk slowly painted itself on Daryl’s face upon seeing the erection his shower mate was nursing, and he fought to stifle his chuckles, to no avail.  
  
  
Glenn’s eyes, vacuous a moment before, suddenly darted to the man washing in front of him.  
“Again, what’s so funny?”  
“Again, keep that spunk.” shot back Daryl, giving the other a good, hard spank.  
Glenn widened his eyes and his mouth gaped open, while Daryl just went on with his business, coating himself with soap as if nothing happened.  
“Did you seriously just spank me?” asked the dark-haired man, holding a hand where the blond had hit him, and where a bruise was already starting to form.  
“Gonna do it again and harder if you don’t put some damn soap on ya. If you ain’t gon’ wash yourself, I will.” said Daryl, almost slamming his finger on the button of a dispenser and vigorously rubbing shampoo through Glenn’s hair.  
  
  
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was being cornered, but Glenn found himself to act more fierily than either of them would have expected, and attempted to push the other man, effectively making him yank on his own dark locks.   
Glenn winced and bit his lips, before shouting: “Dude, stop messing with-“. Daryl’s hand darted to his mouth, sealing it shut to prevent him from alarming everyone else with his loudness.  
Glenn held his eye contact as much as the hot water and shampoo dripping down his face would allow him. What a damn mess that Kid was. Daryl could feel Glenn’s clenched jaw underneath his own hand, and turned the water off with his other hand. Maybe that’d make the Kid less tense, since the water wasn’t drowning their noises anymore. No more need to shout.  
Daryl released the tension in the hand covering the Asian man’s mouth and tried to muster in his eyes the closest thing to an apology he could, taking a step back.  
  
  
Without the water running through his face, the dark-haired man stared more daringly at the blond, his brow furrowed, his jaw and fists clenched.  
“You want more, Kid?”   
“I want you to get out.” he managed to say, a bit too slurred to be convincing.  
Daryl chuckled. “You’re so drunk.”   
“ _I’m serious._ ”. Glenn had raised his voice and sounded more stern. “Get out, I mean it.”  
Before Daryl could reply, Glenn grabbed his shoulders and attempted to shove him.  
Daryl swiftly grabbed hold of Glenn’s wrists and pinned them up on top of his head, as he pushed him against the shower wall.   
Both men were breathing heavily: the taller one predatorily so, the shorter one in drunken alarm and sheer surprise.  
Daryl wasn’t going to back down now, and kept engaging in a staring contest with the Asian man, who refused to squirm for the time being, trying to think something up through his growing stupor.  
  
  
The blond leaned forward, making their erections touch, and Glenn’s glaring eyes suddenly widened as all his efforts to focus shattered. Maybe it was just anger. Yeah, it had to be. It happened after all. Nothing- “You do want more, I see.” purred Daryl in a low rumble that sent shivers up Glenn’s spine, right before another hard slap landed on his other buttock, making him close his eyes and stifle a whimper. Daryl’s hand didn’t move from his ass this time, preferring to maintain a firm grip.  
There were no more doubts about the blond’s intentions now.  
His other arm had shot up to keep both Glenn’s wrists in place, bringing the two of them even closer. Glenn gritted his teeth as Daryl leaned forward to smell his hair and neck, almost tracing the outline of the side of Glenn’s neck with his nose.  
There were no more doubts about how Glenn was feeling either, because he admitted to himself that he was increasingly aroused, and part of him blessed the fact he could blame it all on the red wine he’d had for dinner.  
  
  
A tongue plunged at the base of his neck, between the clavicles, abruptly interrupted his thoughts and slowly made its way up along his neck, adding pressure on his Adam’s apple, up over his chin, which was then grazed by teeth.  
Moans escaped from Glenn’s mouth throughout, while Daryl’s hand squeezed his buttock harder. Another spank on his other buttock made Glenn jerk in surprise.  
Now both his wrists were free, and his arms just fell to his sides as if he were a puppet, while both Daryl’s hands squeezed his ass.  
“Told ya I wanted to see how red your face could get.”  
Dark, vacant eyes mustered a twinkle of understanding, as he recollected those words said during dinner.   
  
  
The blue-eyed man carried on with a devilish smirk. “Another little man here looks pretty damn red too.” he said, giving Glenn’s shaft a long, hard stroke, completely awakening him from his half-drunken state. Glenn bit his lower lip, trying to contain a moan, and reclined his head, pushing back against the shower wall and breathing sharply through his nose.  
The other’s hand rose up to his tip, thumbing over it, making his entire body bolt upright.  
“Fuck!” muttered Glenn through gritted teeth.  
“Careful what you wish for, Kid.”  
Daryl grabbed his chin to force him to look back into his eyes, continuing to stroke him with his other hand, watching Glenn’s eyelids flutter at each stroke as he struggled to keep eye contact.  
  
  
An idea darted to the bigger man’s mind.   
“Keep your eyes open.” he said, pumping the Asian man with increased vigor now.  
“Wh-what?”  
Daryl stopped stroking him and spanked him hard again. “Keep those damn eyes open, Chinaman.”  
“I told you I’m Kor-“ a rough kiss muffled his words, stubble grazing his skin, his chin still held firmly.  
Glenn gave into the kiss, letting Daryl’s hungry tongue explore him, and just as he was about to reciprocate his tongue’s movements and put his hands on his shoulders, the blond man stopped the kiss and pulled back, biting his lip in the process.  
   
  
The dark-haired man glared at him and clenched his jaw, his chin still held in place by iron fingers that were leaving a mark on his skin.  
“Whatever. Now what’d I say about those eyes?”  
Daryl leaned forward again, locking eyes with Glenn and starting to stroke him again, painfully slowly at first, and he smiled as he made sure to register the Kid’s throbs and twitches.  
Glenn was breathing heavily through his teeth, gripping Daryl’s shoulders and allowing himself a few grunts every now and then.   
Daryl could watch him all day. Poor Kid was trying real hard not to close those beautiful eyes of his.  
Lasting longer than he’d thought, too. Time to shake things up.  
His rough hand started pumping harder and faster, almost furiously, his other abandoning Glenn’s chin to push his buckling body back against the wall. He didn’t need to repeat his command, as dark eyes were locked in his blue ones and desperately wide.  
Kid was pretty much clawing at his shoulders. He grinned, watching him writhe. Was he going to plead? He sure looked like it. His eyes were even teary from his efforts.  
Man, was that enjoyable.  
  
  
Precum was oozing from Glenn’s tip, eliciting a low chuckle from the man that was turning his bones to jelly. He couldn’t help but squeeze his eyes shut, letting out a prolonged moan, briskly cut off by Daryl’s hand slapping his ass as hard as he could.   
“What did I tell ya?”  
For a second, the Asian man feared the other would just leave him like that with a ruined orgasm, then sharp teeth bit his shoulder hard enough to leave a deep mark.   
“Look. At. Me.”  
He gulped and obeyed, almost in a trance, as his shaft was being pumped once again by a grip no longer chafing, thanks to his own precum now coating it. A rough hand cradled his balls and squeezed them in sync with the pumping movements, with an unexpected gentleness in stark contrast with Daryl’s vigorous strokes. How could he even do that?  
Glenn fought with all his might to keep staring into the icy blue eyes in front of him without blinking, his cheeks wet from his own tears, as his explosive orgasm mounted.  
“Fu… fu… Fuuuuck!!! FUUUCK!!” he screamed into his own hand, digging into Daryl’s shoulder with the other as he bucked against him and his own semen spurted out with desperate violence.  
  
  
Daryl was astonished by the fact he’d managed to keep his eyes wide open the whole time, but it wasn’t over just yet. He let the Kid collapse in his arms for a moment, then gently positioned him to sit on the shower floor, and took his time lathering the younger man in soap while he just sat there in vacant bliss, looking unaware of his surroundings, his eyelids heavy, a stupor quite different from the drunkenness that had long abandoned him.   
Who knew if the Kid even felt anything at that point, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted to take advantage of that imposed truce to explore his body, mapping it with his fingers to remember it better in his alone time.   
  
  
He’d already shampooed his dark locks, but couldn’t resist running his hands through them again, this time with gentle caresses, while Glenn’s chest heaved and sunk, his eyes now close.   
Was he sleeping? No, he moaned lightly as fingers teased the back of his ear and neck.   
Daryl was tempted to go further, but realized just how out of it the Kid was and gave a regretful glance at his semen being washed off. What a waste. He’d make up for it another time.  
He turned on the hot water once again to wash them both, continuing to stroke all over Glenn’s body and helping him up.   
  
  
The younger man glanced at him with gratitude, in a dreamy haze. He turned off the water and opened the shower door, getting towels for the both of them and wrapping one around Glenn’s waist, relishing the sight of his now soft, exhausted cock just a little more.  
He helped Glenn onto the bed, trying to prolong his contact with that delicious warm body, and ruffled his black hair before dropping on his cot.  
His fingers interlaced under his head, propping it up ever so slightly, as he stared up to the ceiling, breathing slowly. He looked like he was not really thinking about anything, but that was not the case. He kept replaying the shorter man’s moans, grunts, and final scream into his mind, careful not to give himself away by smiling.   
He couldn’t resist glancing up to Glenn’s bed, where the young man seemed to have completely dozed off, snoring lightly, bliss still lingering on his flushed face.   
Daryl turned off the lights to avoid getting new “ideas”, seeing as he was still a bit hard and the Kid deserved some sleep after all.   
Another time, he thought to himself with a victorious smile on his face, now that Glenn was out and everything was dark.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hungover and sore Glenn after his night of being manhandled by Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter originally posted on The Yeun Ones' writing subsection (yeunones.com) on August 15, 2017.
> 
> A tamer interlude, still NSFW in the first part.

Chapter Two

 

 

Daryl woke up first. He’d already been awake a few minutes when he overhead doctor Jenner and Dale chattering as they passed the corridor, and furrowed his brow when one of them gave a light knock.  
He fumbled up and treaded to the door without even turning the lights back on, and popped out his head.  
“Good morning.” chirped Dale with an awkward smile and his hands on his hips. Jenner just nodded.  
“Mornin’. Mind keepin’ it quiet? Kid’s still hungover.”   
The old man’s face darkened and he moved his head to sneak a peek from the ajar door, meeting only Daryl’s stare. He seemed to relax upon hearing Glenn’s light snores as the younger man shifted in his bed.  
Jenner crossed his arms and said he had something for his hangover, suggesting they both come to breakfast to put something in their stomach to speed up the recovery.  
“T-Dog already volunteered to quench our rumblings.” exclaimed Dale, patting his own stomach. “You know, he can be quite a good cook.”  
“Whatever, be there in a minute. He’s gon’ need some more time.” cut him off Daryl, gesturing back at Glenn’s bed before closing the door on them. The doctor and Dale glanced at each other and shrugged, heading to the breakfast room more quietly now.  
  
Turning on the lights revealed Glenn’s figure sprawled on the bed, still in his towel, his hair a messy black mop on the white pillow, his mouth slightly parted.  
Daryl looked down on his chin and jaw, not sure whether to feel relieved or regretful to see the marks left by his own iron fingers faded almost to invisibility. The bite mark on his left shoulder was still bright red, however, stealing a triumphant smile from the one responsible for it, who ran his thumb over Glenn’s lower lip, tempted to bend down and kiss him. Nobody watching anyway.   
He bent down and lightly bit the Asian man’s lower lip, using his teeth to graze it more delicately than he’d thought himself capable of, unable to resist teasing him even if he was asleep. A soft, almost inaudible sound escaped Glenn’s lips, and Daryl took it as an invitation, tracing the outline of the other’s morning wood through the towel with his index finger.   
He stopped upon hearing Glenn moan softly and shuffle his head on the pillow. Was he dreaming? Could he feel his hand on his crotch?  
He slipped a hand under Glenn’s towel and gently fondled his balls, keeping his eyes on the sleeping man.  
Man, wasn’t he tempted to have his way right there in that moment. He sighed heavily, delighted to see Glenn’s brow wrinkle under his maneuvers. Right. Time to go while he was still in control of himself.  
  
Glenn fluttered his eyes open, taking a while to focus them and make sense of the room around it.  
He immediately regretted waking up upon regaining consciousness, feeling his head pounding, his left shoulder and buttocks burning, and his cock still in pain after the furious administrations of the night before. The night before. What? He bolted on the bed, looking down to see he was still in his towel, on top of the bedsheet instead of tucked under it. What the hell. Had he dreamed it all? His whole body felt like lead, but certain strategic spots burned enough to convince him that had been no dream.   
No sign of Daryl apart from his cot, still on the floor. Why’d he let Glenn sleep on the bed instead of claiming it for himself?   
His mounting nausea catapulted him away from his thoughts and into the bathroom, bent over the toilet.   
  
His barfing sounds almost covered the knocks to the bedroom door. “Hello?”   
Dale? He just couldn’t stop vomiting, and tried to groan to signal he’d heard.   
“Glenn! Are you ok?”  
Another groan, this time louder. Feet stumbling towards the door, which opened to show a livid face covered in cold sweat under glistening black hair. “Hmm?”  
“Oh my goodness.” Dale’s eyes resembled those of a startled owl as he gestured towards the hungover young man and put a hand on his shoulder. Glenn winced at the touch.  
“Why are you still here?”   
The black-haired man gave him a quizzical look through swollen eyelids.  
“Where’s Daryl?”  
“Daryl?”  
“Have you been vomiting?”  
“Dary-Dale, please, stop. Give me a break. I’ve just barfed my soul out. Why are you asking me about Daryl?” scoffed Glenn, rubbing his eyes.  
“Well, you slept together.”  
  
His hooded eyes sprang wide open and he almost gagged in surprise.   
The older man looked at him as if concerned about his sanity, before enunciating his words in an exaggeratedly slow manner: “You two shared the room for the night, right? You remember? Glenn!”  
The young man huffed and hastily ran a hand through his dark mop.  
“Yeah! Yeah! What about it? I just had a shower and crashed on the bed, that’s all, and now I feel like crap because my alcohol tolerance is shit and you’re gunning me down with questions first thing in the morn-“  
Before he could continue with his tirade, he doubled over puking right on Dale’s shoe.  
He coughed and looked up apologetically. What a fantastic start of the day.  
  
The old man’s concern magnified when a red mark on Glenn’s left shoulder caught his eye, and he pointed an inquisitive finger. Glenn slowly followed the direction of Dale’s finger, and froze not knowing how to justify the bite mark.   
“What happened there?”   
“I… “  
“Tell me!”  
“It wasn’t a geek!”   
“I know! There’s no sign of tearing and this place is sealed as far as I know! Now tell me what in God’s name happened.”  
Dale’s aged voice broke into a singsong, and he didn’t exactly look imposing, but his presence and insistence were daunting enough in that moment, eliciting a mortified sigh from Glenn, who dared not look up. “Things got a little rough with Daryl.”  
Well, it wasn’t a lie. Dale just had no idea of how rough they’d really gotten. Or did he? Ugh.  
“I-I provoked him, and he bit me to stop the fight. I’d probably have two black eyes and a broken nose by now otherwise.” his voice turned into a breathless laugh in the last part. Oh shit, that could’ve really happened. He already felt enough like crap as it was.  
Dale looked at him incredulous. “He… bit you to stop a fight?”  
Please buy this. Glenn gulped and nodded, trying not to crack at the interminable stunned silence that followed. “… surprise factor? Guess that’s what it was?”  _Buy_.  _This_.   
  
Dale sighed, half-convinced, and patted the young man’s other shoulder, meeting his timid smile.  
“Best to get something in you.”  
“Like what?”  
The old man cocked an eyebrow.   
“… T-Dog’s making breakfast. We’ve been waiting for you? Didn’t Daryl tell you? Where-”  
“Oh yeah, I just-I must’ve fallen asleep again. Sorry. Be right there, go on without me. Sorry about your shoe. Shoes? Later!” he managed to cut him off before disappearing back behind the door.   
He rinsed his mouth and fumbled with his clothes to put them on to be at least half-presentable. He’d felt naked enough under the old man’s suspicious stare.  
Was that suspicion or accusation? Or just concern? Man, what a shitty morning. If he could just stop vomiting…   
He rinsed his mouth again and slapped himself more fully awake; the sound was a diminutive reminder of the rough hands that had slapped his butt so hard it was still on fire from the previous night. His face was on fire too now. It hadn’t been a dream, and it hadn’t been unwanted. Shame crept through his pounding headache and exhausting nausea, despite the amount of pleasure he’d felt being manhandled by his temporary roommate. Or maybe because of it. Get it together.  
  
He stumbled and groaned his way to the breakfast room, cursing himself for not going with Dale, until he saw the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction. How handy. He was still at the CDC after all, and not as horribly late as he’d resigned himself to be: Rick, for one, hadn’t arrived yet.  
Dale kept talking more to himself than anyone else, while Carol and Sophia nodded every now and then, as Jenner had escaped his clutches.   
Andrea just stared into space with bloodshot eyes, taking forever to eat her small bites. Jacqui gently stroked her free hand without saying anything. He wasn’t the only one badly hungover then.   
Lori and Carl joked about the state Rick was going to show up in, and Lori playfully warned her child not to follow in his footsteps.   
No sign of Shane, or Daryl. Doctor Jenner was probably back to any resemblance of work he could still have at that point. To save power, only a few lights were on. Thank goodness for that.  
  
He mumbled hello, covering his mouth with his hand trying not to puke, as he caught a whiff of what T-Dog was cooking. It wasn’t normally a bad smell, but in that moment indulging in it would have been like playing with fire only to end up projectile-vomiting in front of everyone. No, thanks.  
Jacqui had just finished eating when she heard his feeble greeting, and stood up to walk towards him.  
“You poor thing. Have a seat.” she said, shifting a chair from the table. He dropped on the chair with his sore buttocks and slumped over the table, as she helped him move closer.  
Great. Now they were going to baby him.   
“I’ll take care of this for you.” said Carol, taking her plate and washing it along with her own and Sophia’s.   
Her daughter stared at Glenn smiling, while Jacqui massaged his shoulders.  
“You don’t look so good.”  
She and Carl chuckled, and Glenn mustered a half-smile before Carol and Lori shushed their children.  
“You can have my juice.” offered Sophia apologetically “I’ve already had a glass.”  
Carol gestured her daughter to bring Glenn the scrambled eggs T-Dog had just cooked for him before going to brush her teeth.  
“Tell me how you like ‘em!” exclaimed the enthusiastic cook, only getting a groan in response.   
The rest of the room chuckled softly. He washed his dry mouth with juice before attempting to put anything solid in it, hoping not to puke on the table and feeling like a truck had just hit his head. Why did almost everyone else seem to be having a great time?   
  
Some relief came in the form of Rick making his way into the room, his steps still a little unstable, looking hungover enough to make Glenn feel a bit better about himself, or at least less alone.  
“Hello” the younger man managed to say.  
“Morning.” Rick’s voice was low and flat.  
Carl immediately intercepted him with a cheeky smile. “Are you hungover? Mom said you’d be.”   
His wife turned around, but before she could scold their son, Rick smiled and exclaimed: “Mom is right.”  
Drowsiness had almost completely left his voice and face, whereas Glenn felt like one of those creatures they’d been running from – even sounded like one. He almost let out a laugh.  
“Mom has that annoying habit.” replied Lori, teasing her husband.  
Apart from Glenn and Andrea, they all looked like they were enjoying themselves.  
T-Dog was just beaming. “Eggs! Powdered, but I do ‘em good.”  
The young Asian man emitted another, louder groan, resting his forehead on the hand he’d been using to try and eat some of those eggs that would’ve been delicious in probably any other situation.  
“I bet you can’t tell!” laughed the cook in response, joined by Dale’s chuckle. “Protein helps the hangover.” he continued, piling some more eggs in front of a moaning Glenn, whose shoulders were still being worked on by Jacqui. He tried his best not to wince when she neared Daryl’s bite mark.  
Make them stop talking. Stop… everything. They’re trying to be nice, but still.   
Rick picked up one of the pill bottles scattered on the table. “Where’d all these come from?” he asked Lori.  
“Jenner. He thought we could use it. Some of us, at least.”  
She smiled in Glenn’s direction, who just muttered defeatedly: “Don’t ever, ever, ever let me drink again.”  
He meant every word. Every single one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Glenn and Daryl's first "meeting".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW in the first part. Misogynistic and racist language since Merle is in the second part of this chapter.
> 
> First posted on the writing section of yeunones.com on August 25, 2017.

Chapter Three

  
  
  
Daryl had rushed out of the room that morning after taking a piss and throwing something on.  
He was starting to regret what he’d seen as a perfect chance till a moment before.  
Just like him to fuck things up that way. Now he didn’t even know if Glenn wanted him that way or just… let him because of the alcohol or something.   
He spat on the floor, marching through the corridors and cursing himself for getting stiff again at the intrusive memory of Glenn screaming in the shower, his body writhing under his touch.  
He imagined plowing that body against the corridor walls, screams echoing all over.   
He imagined tying Glenn to the bed with his sheet and gagging him with his towel, licking every inch of his body that his tongue could reach, taking his damn sweet time to suck him dry, then spitting some of that cum on his fingers to lube them up and prep his hole so he could pound him senseless.  
  
He bumped against Dale popping out of the breakfast room. “I thought I heard your steps.”  
Fuck you.  
“Come sit down with us.”  
Fuck you in the ass with a spoon.  
“You startin’ to miss me, old man?” he taunted, before walking right past the room, ignoring Dale’s frown and questions about how Glenn was feeling, since he hadn’t come with him.  
Daryl did  _not_  want to be in that room with the others, let alone with Glenn in it anytime soon.  
Didn’t really know how to act yet. Didn’t know how Glenn would act, if he even remembered anything. Kid was just hammered after all. He’d loved seeing that flushed face, both at dinner and after that, right from when he’d identified Daryl outside the shower in a crescendo till he’d come all over him, retaining that color even after he’d fallen asleep on the bed he’d been laid on with care.  
  
What a thrilling sight he’d been throughout. It would have been such a shame if that had been their only time together that way. There so much more Daryl wanted to do.   
He wanted to taste him properly and know what it felt like to be inside of him and have him come undone underneath him, twitching around his cock, screaming his name.  
He’d been wanting to for some time. They’d known each other for around two months now, and in that time any hint of sexual urges that might have arisen in him had revolved, for some reason, around the Asian guy in the baseball cap, whose looks were so youthful and frankly unusual to him, considering the people he’d been mostly hanging around all his life: his older brother and his “friends”, like the bastard that had sucker-punched him in the stomach, making him puke on the floor. Shithead.  
  
It was one thing to have some fresh meat on his radar, but since the day he’d been snatched from under Daryl’s guard in Atlanta trying to get Rick’s goddamn guns back, the blond realised he just couldn’t get Glenn out of his head. He loved and hated that at the same time.   
He detested the fact that a damn kid could have so much of a hold on him, and feeling that desire while everything was going to shit. Fucking corpses were up and walking everywhere and he got rock hard for fucking Short Round.   
It wasn’t just that, he knew that. He’d felt it when Glenn was kidnapped right under his nose, making him hate himself so damn much, it had even surprised him when it hit him.   
Whatever the hell that was, it had made him go ballistic. He’d felt so fucking angry, both at the assholes who’d taken Glenn and at himself for losing him that way, because of a stupid scrawny gang reject on top of everything. Fuck that. When he’d seen Glenn all safe and sound, arms crossed, eyes only for an old man’s goddamn asthma, he’d felt like punching him and kissing him at the same time.  
Despite that, he’d tried to shrug it off, other things to deal with during all the shit that had gone down at the quarry after their “rescue mission”.  
Once at the CDC, he hoped that would be it, there was the chance to scratch that really stubborn itch and finally get that kid out his head. No more fantasizing about just bending him over to fuck his brains out, or wondering if he gave good head, or just how tight his ass could be and how tricky it would have been to open him up for the first time without destroying him.   
It turned out that scratching that “itch” – if he could even honestly call it that – didn’t make it pass at all, or satisfy his curiosity nearly enough; it did just about the opposite, making him want more and taking away the satisfaction he’d felt getting his hands on Glenn. Now he was just pissed.  
Had someone gone back in time to when they’d first met and told Daryl how things would get, he’d have thought they were just shitting him for sure. Yet that day was burned into his mind.  
The first time he’d seen those warm eyes widening for him and he could cast his own eyes on unfamiliar, exquisite features. The first time he had taken Glenn’s breath away, and he’d taken his own, although much differently.  
  
\---  
  
The fire was crackling back at the quarry, but Glenn kept feeling a shiver down his spine and crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest, gazing at the tongues of fire flickering in front of him as he sat on the ground. He wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the nightly temperature excursion or with his own uneasiness. He was grateful for finding a hospitable group of people but, as optimistic as he usually was, didn’t quite feel like he could hold onto that.  
Should he even? He didn’t really know those people and one of them at least was a dangerous lunatic and an abusive husband. Dale, Andrea, and Amy made had taken him in even after he’d tried to steal Dale’s RV and gave off a vibe that made him ache for the family he had zero hopes of reaching now.  
He couldn’t harbour that hope. Even if he could go back to them and find them still alive, what then?  
No way they’d even want to see him; it had been too long. He was so stupid.   
Who knew if they were even still alive anyway. He didn’t want to go there, got to keep his head up.  
He had enough nightmares as it was.   
  
“You ok, man?”  
A large hand patted his shoulder, making him look up to Shane towering over him.  
“I’m, uh, I’m not really the… camping type, you know? I don’t know what I’m doing, this is unusual for me.”    
The tall, dark man laughed, not really caring about being loud enough to attract geeks.  
Then he extended his arm and slowly pivoted to show him the quarry around them and the camp they’d set up. “ _This_  Is unusual. This is no camping trip; it’s life as it is for now.” replied Shane before patting his baseball hat, making him cringe a bit. The taller man had spoken with a mix of jest and warmth to which he didn’t quite know how to respond to, but he still attempted to smile.  
“You’ll get the hang of this.” nodded Shane, looking around with his hands on his hips. “ _We_  will.”  
“Thanks.”   
This time Glenn’s smile was sincere. He could get used to that big brother vibe Shane could exude, but he kept in mind he could still totally get his ass kicked.  
The former cop just waved his hand. “You can thank me tomorrow: we can’t last out here without supplies and, well, Dale told me you know your way around things, so to speak.”  
The Asian man sighed and nodded, looking down with a half-smile.   
Some rustling attracted their attention towards one of the tents; Ed came out and glared as their eyes met, before simply walking over to a tree and starting to piss.  
Shane and Glenn exchanged a look before trying to look as casual as possible. The younger man took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair before laying back on the ground, holding up his head with his folded arms; the other slid his hands in his own pockets and looked up at the starry sky as if he was trying to recognize constellations.   
Ed seemed to be taking his time almost on purpose, and as he shuffled back inside his tent once finished, Glenn said softly: “Good thing you’re out here, he was going to eat me.”   
Shane responded with a wheezing chuckle. “Not much of a snack, man.”  
Glenn’s soft laughter was briskly interrupted by rustling around the opposite side to Ed’s tent, closer to them but not close enough to make out what caused it.  
The taller man gestured him to keep quiet and stay back, as he grabbed his service gun from his holster, took off the safety, and walked over the source of the noise with slow, inaudible steps.  
The young man clumsily stood up, trying to make as little noise as possible, and looked around for something to be used as a weapon after jamming his hat back on his head.  
  
Now the rustling came from two different sources, as something circled around the camp, coming up beside Glenn, who span around hearing twigs break too close for comfort.  
He bent down slowly, attempting to grab one of the dry branches they kept around to feed the fire.  
Shane gave a quick glance over his direction and met his alarmed eyes with a firm nod, before turning around ready to strike whatever had been moving around the trees in front of him.  
Glenn tensed up and held the branch tightly in his hands, bracing himself and looking around trying to locate where it had come from. Nothing moved anymore, and everything was silent apart from the crackling fire and chirping crickets.   
He gasped as an arrow hit the stick he’d been gripping to defend himself and he instinctively let go, letting it fall onto the ground and stepping back, holding his breath.   
He tripped over a rock and was about to fall back into the fire before he was grabbed by his shirt and effortlessly pulled up by a muscular arm, coming face to face with the stranger that had first attacked him, then saved him and; meeting his icy eyes, he was surprised to read even for a brief moment the same amazement he’d just felt.  
  
“Hey!” yelled Shane upon hearing the commotion, but as he turned around he was tackled to the ground by another man, who seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing and taunting him.  
“Easy now, big man. We don’t wanna hurt ya more than we have to. Alright, come on.”  
Glenn looked back and called out, but he couldn’t move towards them because the man who’d pulled him up let go of his shirt to aim his crossbow at him.  
The younger man put up his hands and stared into the other’s feral eyes, clenching his jaw.  
“You’re not going to shoot me.” he attempted, his voice soft but stern.  
The other man didn’t answer and kept his eyes locked onto his and his hand ready to release the arrow.  
“If you wanted to hurt me, you’d have just let me fall.”  
After a moment of silence, the blue-eyed assailant finally spoke: “Might’ve just changed my mind.”   
His voice was a mere murmur, but it was steady and bold.   
Some yards behind them, Shane tried to wrestle his attacker off his back and roll on the ground to a position from where his punch could reach him.  
“Glenn!”  
He elbowed the other man and rolled so that his attacker’s back was now glued to the ground, and slammed his body back against his to prevent his arms from snaking around his chest to hold him in place.  
“This is the wrong night to screw with me, buddy.” growled Shane as he shot up to aim at the grinning man lying on the ground and mockingly putting his hands up.  
  
All that noise had attracted the others camped out at the quarry, who shuffled inside their tents and vehicles, starting to come out.  
Glenn was grabbed and pushed down on the ground, a boot on his ribcage holding him in place as he cried out and the blond man aimed his crossbow straight down at him.  
The Asian man fearfully glanced at Shane from his position.   
“What the hell are you doing? Who are you people?” yelled Andrea, reaching for the gun her father had given her long before while everyone else rushed towards Shane and Glenn.  
“We’re the big bad wolves, sugar tits.” joked the man that had tackled Shane.  
“You shut that mouth before I shoot it off your face!”   
“D’ya even know how to use that? That’s no lipstick, honey.”  
“ _I_  do.” gnarled Shane.  
The man on the ground chuckled. “Can’t do that, Rambo, unless you want my little brother to shoot an arrow into your boy’s eyes.”   
He glanced over the Asian man who was desperately trying to release the pressure of the blond’s foot on his ribs. “Ain’t gon’ be much of a waste, tell you what, he’d probably fix the slant.”  
  
The bowman’s stare burned through Glenn as he writhed and panted beneath him.  
The young man looked up from the arrow that could be shot in his face at any moment and met the other’s gaze. There was no sign of pleading in his dark eyes, frozen in fearful uncertainty as the gleam of the fire danced in them. His lips were parted as he struggled to breathe normally, his face flushed from the commotion. His black hair glistened as sweat glued random strands to his forehead and cheeks.  
The agitated voices around were muffled as if underwater as Daryl seized the opportunity to take a good look at the young man, who stopped struggling under his foot.  
Glenn’s breath got a bit slower; it was so strange to feel investigated by that man’s gaze, which seemed to be trailing his every feature. Why would he do that? Did he remind him of someone? Had they met?... Had he stolen from those two? Oh shit. He couldn’t even remember. Could he have known? Fuck.  
  
He felt the weight of the bowman’s boot lifted from his ribcage, the sudden intake of air allowed making him cough. The blond stepped back and carefully placed his crossbow on the ground.  
“We don’t want no trouble.” he stated sincerely.  
“The fuck you doin’, Daryl?”   
“Shut up, Merle. These people ain’t done shit to us, and they got  _children_.” he spat, pointing at Sophia and Carl clutching their respective mothers. “They got women. They got fucking old men.” he continued, pointing to a disgruntled Dale.  
“They even got slanties, niggers, and cholos. Who the fuck cares? Pick up your damn crossbow.”   
Merle’s face darkened as he commanded his younger brother, who just stood there, with not enough defiance in his eyes to be completely sure he wouldn’t obey.  
Morales and T-Dog exchanged a quick look as if to tell each other the prick on the ground wasn’t worth it.  
Shane kept his gun ready for action, but his eyes fixed on the bowman that had just challenged the apparent boss, uncertain whether that was a bluff or not.  
“Listen to your brother, ‘Merle’.”   
“You don’t fuckin’ tell  _me_  what to do!” he yelled.  
Shane indicated his gun with his head. “I think I do.”  
  
Dale took some tentative steps with his hands raised, despite the fact no one was pointing a weapon at anyone in their group. “Look, things don’t have to be this way. There’s enough violence as it is.”  
“You can stay with us.” tried to follow up Glenn, immediately regretting his own words the second he met Dale’s alarmed, disapproving look.   
“I mean, strength in numbers, right?” he continued to make his case, sitting up. He frantically pointed at Daryl “This guy’s got a freaking crossbow, come on!”  
He knew he didn’t sound very convincing; heck, he wasn’t convincing to himself either.   
Dale just shook his head, but Shane started to show a spark of interest. “He’s a pretty good shot, too.”  
Merle and Daryl looked at each other, considering the option.  
Neither of them was exactly going to plead to be taken in, but that could turn out to be a very good opportunity, at least for the time being. It would stupid to pass it up now that the dead were rising to attack the living, as the living themselves were ready to do – much like they’d just tried to do.  
Merle licked his lips. “I ain’t takin’ no orders from anybody though.”  
“Hold your horses, we haven’t agreed to anything yet.” replied Shane, before looking at Lori, who shook her head almost imperceptibly.   
Ed had strangely remained silent until that moment, when he remarked: “We could use some more capable men around here.”, earning a scornful look from most of the women, apart from his wife who looked down at Sophia. “We took that little Asian boy with us and we’re not going to take them?” he insisted, challenging Shane and causing Merle to burst into laughter.  
“Excuse me?” frowned Glenn, before rolling his eyes as a hand waved by Dale communicated it was best to keep quiet.  
  
It was clear from everyone’s looks that most didn’t agree to let the two brothers stay with them; it was too dangerous and could end in disaster. They didn’t know them; then again, most of them didn’t know each other either, and had taken a leap of faith grouping together and establishing that camp.  
Shane sighed. “You with the crossbow. You can stay.”  
Daryl shook his head. “Ain’t stayin’ nowhere without my brother.”  
“Then you sure as hell ain’t gonna stay here.”   
Glenn squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, knowing he was going to regret what he was going to say next too. “We outnumber them anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”  
Shane couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “We get our heads nailed to the ground by arrows during the night. Or our throats slit. You get the hint.”  
“Anyone of us could have done it.” Insisted the younger man. “Even I could.”  
Another wheezing chuckle from Shane, this time not cordial at all.  
Glenn furrowed his brow. “What? You think I can do no harm? I tried to steal Dale’s RV.”  
“Come on, Glenn, that’s no cold-blooded murder. That’s kid stuff in comparison.”  
The Asian man looked down frowning, unaware of the intrigued glint that passed through Daryl’s eyes as he glanced down to the guy he’d threatened with his crossbow moments before. That Glenn had looked so innocent to him until then, but there was obviously more to him beneath that angelic exterior.  
  
“Take my crossbow, I don’t give a shit.” offered Daryl, much to everyone’s surprise.  
“You heard the kid, y’all outnumber us anyway. Keep my crossbow for a while if it makes you feel safer. Then you decide whether you’re good with us stickin’ around or not.”  
Merle stared at him, not too convinced, but decided to roll with it. “You heard my little brother; could all benefit after all.”  
He shot a devilishly smile towards Glenn, who felt another shiver realising he was the one to blame if it all went downhill. He could’ve kept his stupid mouth shut for once. Shit.   
Better own up to it anyway. He stood up and carefully extended his arms towards Daryl, almost biting his tongue as he saw the taller man was staring him down, motionless.  
“Lookin’ for free hugs, Kid?”  
Someone coughed.   
“Uhm… y-your crossbow?”  
“That a question?”  
“Your crossbow! You can hand it over to me. We’ll keep it safe.”  
Andrea protested. “We haven’t even voted yet, who are you to decide on your own?”  
“Someone has to. I’m taking responsibility. I was the one who suggested this anyway, it’s on me.”  
Angel clearly had some fire to him. Interesting.  
“Ching-chong’s got a point, Blondie.” remarked Merle.  
Shane lowered his gun, shaking his head and thinking he wasn’t going to like what would come from his own mouth. “Alright, we can give this a shot. Anyone of you two fellas try anything” he shook his gun “I got a special little gift for ya and you ain’t gon’ like it.”  
“Understood.” said Daryl, picking up his crossbow and dumping it on Glenn’s extended arms.  
“Oof!”  
“Careful with that, Kid. Don’t hurt yourself.” joked Daryl, sliding his quiver off his shoulder and handing that over as well to a fumbling Glenn.  
That was it, deal was sealed – at least for the time being.   
Merle and Daryl nodded to each other, while Glenn took the crossbow and quiver away, feeling his skin burn with guilt and silently praying he hadn’t just screwed up everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenn deals with the consequences of getting Daryl and Merle to join the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merle alert for discriminatory language.
> 
> First published on yeunones.com's writing subsection on September 7, 2017.

Chapter Four

  
  
  
“That was a terrible idea.” hissed Amy passing Glenn as he was gathering canned beans from the RV’s cupboard to help make breakfast.  
“Amy-“  
“Don’t ‘Amy’ me, we barely got any sleep last night, and we could use all we can get.”  
The young man looked at her with widened eyes and scoffed. “You think I slept like a baby?? Plus, don’t know if you got the memo, but the dead have risen to eat us and pretty much chased us out of our homes; not sure how well we’d all have slept anyway. Don’t pin this on me.”  
“It  _is_  on you.” stated Dale calmly, appearing behind them. “You said it yourself.”  
Glenn sighed and frowned, feeling cornered. “Are you taking her side now?”  
“I’m on the side of reason. You two bickering isn’t going to make the situation any better.”  
The Asian man slammed the cupboard shut, muttering something, before the elderly man put his hand on his shoulder, warmly squeezing it.   
“Glenn, we’re not against you, we’re for  _us_.  _All_  of us.”  
  
The younger girl scoffed and shook her head, as Glenn replied: “But not for them, are you? How are they any different? You don’t know me. You don’t know T-Dog. You don’t know Shane. We don’t know each other. I can understand you trusting those who came with their families, but the rest of us? We’re wild cards, just as much as those two.”  
The older man let out a soft chuckle. “Wild cards?” he asked before gently shaking his head. “I know T-Dog rounded up old people in his church van when it all went down the drain. They didn’t know him, he didn’t know them; just checking if they needed a ride, if they could use any help.”  
That somehow didn’t seem to satisfy the man in front of him, who kept staring at him as if waiting for him to continue. He obliged. “I know Shane’s a police officer, that he rescued Lori and her little boy, and what we have here wouldn’t be possible without him.”  
“Do you though? ‘Cause this group’s barely even spent a day together.” insisted Glenn.  
  
Amy threw her hands up. “I can’t believe this. You’re not actually comparing any of us to those two assholes.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because you’re just grasping at straws, you know you screwed up! I’ve already had enough of you! You shouldn’t even be here. You’re here because you tried to steal from some old man that ended up pitying you.”  
Glenn’s hand twitched around the can of beans he was holding and he looked down, feeling his face on fire.  
“I… I didn’t know this was his… if I’d known…”  
Great, now he was being painted as a criminal taking advantage of old people, on top of everything else.   
He already felt like crap for the life he’d got used to, for needing to steal to go on. He was just trying to survive. He didn’t need that too.   
The young girl did not stand down, even seeing him looking so defeated.   
“Would it have mattered? What would’ve changed? Gosh you’re such a hypocrite.”  
  
Dale interrupted them, clearing his throat. “You are not doing this.  _We_  are not doing this. What’s done is done and nothing’s happened yet: let’s just accept the fact that Glenn made a decision when no one else would and he said he’d take responsibility.”  
The younger man smiled with gratitude, temporarily lighting up a bit. He attempted to speak when Dale’s index finger shot up to his lips to shut him up, his face suddenly more stern. “Glenn, don’t think I agree with you. What you did was reckless and could endanger us all. You’re a young man, I’m old and we have women with children – don’t expect our approval. I can understand why you chose to give those people a chance, but we’ve got to watch out whom we give a chance to, now more than ever. They’re not like us, they’re not like you: they tried to ambush a group of survivors. Let’s not try our luck more than we need to. And for the love of God, let’s get out of here, too: people are starving.”  
  
“Morning, champ.” Shane’s half-sarcastic tone startled Glenn as he walked over to the fire Lori was tending.  
“Hey…” he mustered, trying to look away from Lori’s disapproving glance.  
He scanned around, but was surprised to see no trace of the two strangers.  
“They’ve gone hunting. Tryin’ to make themselves useful, as they should.” explained Shane.  
The younger man stuttered a little as he inquired with widened eyes: “On their own?”   
They  _were_  trying their best to make him regret his choice.  
The taller man scoffed and shook his head, visible bags under his eyes as he sat cross-legged near the fire.   
“They’re with T-Dog and Morales.”  
“Oh boy…”  
“It is what it is. They volunteered.”  
“Why not Ed? I mean, I get Jim, his turn to keep guard was after mine last night. Andrea has a gun-”  
Lori briskly interrupted him. “Don’t count on Ed for anything. The rest of us do what we can.”  
Glenn nodded and sat down to start opening some cans. He frowned when Amy walked over and unceremoniously dropped some pots next to him.  
“Careful with those.” tried Lori, but the younger girl was already striding past them, looking for her sister.  
  
Shane stretched his arms and squeezed his eyes shut. He looked like even he had barely got any sleep.   
The younger man sighed as he emptied the canned bean into a pot.  
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday.”  
“You’d better be.” said Lori’s eyes.  
Shane tiredly waved his hand to shut him up. “Save the apologies for later, let’s see what happens. I doubt those two will be stickin’ around anyway.”  
“I’m not sure I’d like them to.” commented Lori, patting her legs clean as she got up to get some more firewood.  
“Dunno, crossbow could come in pretty handy.”  
Glenn almost dropped the pot he was filling and looked at the taller man in shock.  
“Wait, you already gave the crossbow back?”  
It was like they almost wanted for things to go even further up shit creek than they’d already gone, but of course he’d be the one to take all the blame for that.  
“Our men got shotguns. It’s alright.”  
Glenn gulped and shook his head as the other man lay down on the ground. It’d better be.   
  
The hunting party came back rather soon.   
“Good news everyone! We’ve come to feed you!” chirped Morales after announcing their return before coming out of the trees.  
As soon as Glenn had stood up, something heavy hit his abdomen and he almost tripped, looking down over what had been thrown at him. A bunch of dead, bloody squirrels lay on the ground tied together. He heard Merle snicker.  
“Told ya my little brother knows what he’s doin'. He could sniff out anything in these woods.”  
The Asian man reluctantly held up the squirrels by the rope that bound them, pinching his nose with his other hand even though they were heavier than he’d expected.  
“What’s wrong, Kid? Never smelled dead animals before?” asked Daryl, retrieving his preys.  
“Just not… freshly dead ones.”  
The bowman smirked and walked past him, dangling the squirrels in front of him and causing him to jerk back, eliciting laughter from his older brother, who cried: “Don’t piss your pants, boy! That’s breakfast for you! Ain’t gon’ bite you now.”  
“I think I’m fine with canned beans.” mumbled Glenn, turning around to resume his cooking. “Oh, shit!”   
  
Black smoke was starting to come out of the pot he’d been using. “Shit shit shit!”  
T-Dog almost knocked him over as he ran towards him to take the pot out of his hands and, most importantly, out of the fire. “What you doin’, man? Look at this mess!”  
“Sorry!”   
The bigger man chuckled. “May’ve just found someone clumsier than me. If only mama could see!”  
His chuckle became a hearty laugh and he patted an embarrassed Glenn on the back.   
The Asian man smiled at him, feeling less guilty since T-Dog’s reaction was a welcome change that day.  
“Just you wait, I’m gon’ teach you. We’ll be having a mighty feast with those squirrels Daryl caught.”  
The Asian man stuck out his tongue and let out a disgusted sound in protest, only to be mockingly swatted by T-Dog.   
They both laughed out loud. Something told Glenn he was going to like having him around.  
A vague sense of relief pervaded him. Maybe things weren’t that bad.  
Perhaps he wasn’t going to get in trouble: as far as he knew, Daryl at least had made himself useful, proving his point. Couldn’t say anything about Merle yet, but he suspected that keeping one brother around would have implied being stuck with the other.   
Considering his racist remarks the night before, it was a good sign no trouble seemed to have arisen between him and Morales or T-Dog either since they’d looked rather cheerful upon their return. Hopefully they weren’t going to let him get to them. Glenn was going to have to try his best to do the same.  
  
T-Dog kept his word and actually did manage to turn those squirrels into a mighty feast; the kids really loved them, despite having wrinkled their noses at first, and Andrea and Jacqui exchanged surprised looks upon tasting them themselves, even licking off their fingers. The same couldn’t be said of Amy, who alternated between glaring at Glenn and Daryl with a look that said: “ _This_  is what I’m eating because of you.”  
Daryl clearly couldn’t give a shit. Glenn looked down, avoiding her stare only to feel another stare burning his way through him. He glanced up, meeting the blond man’s amused eyes. He was going to say something, when Shane butted in. “We gotta thank you guys for this.”  
The group expressed their thanks, some begrudgingly, some with surprised enthusiasm, others with simple nods.   
Merle shushed them waving a hand. “Got to earn our keep, ain’t that right, Daryl?”   
He looked over at his brother, who just nodded and kept devouring his squirrel. Merle’s eyes passed his younger brother and settled on Glenn with a mischievous glint that almost made him choke on what he was chewing.   
Dale cleared his throat. “Guess we have Glenn to thank for this as well.”  
The young man blushed and smiled sheepishly. “Dale, you don’t have to do this.” he chuckled.  
“Nonsense, it’s only fair I do. We should be careful not to judge others too quickly.”  
Lori eloquently nodded before exchanging a glance with Shane.  
  
Glenn put himself on dishwashing duty while Dale, Andrea, and Amy gathered together by the quarry to talk some fishing; Dale was sure he still had some fishing equipment in the RV and the two women had quite some experience, they might as well put it to good use.   
They were going to stay put for the time being anyway, without a reason to disband. The camp wasn’t going anywhere, as long as the geeks didn’t make their way there, and at present no one at camp had really anywhere else to go, or felt like doing anything separately.   
Strength in numbers was definitely a thing now, especially for the families with children.   
They had to get organized, and each of them would have a job to do, possibly on rotation.   
Jim and Jacqui took it upon themselves to start making an inventory of what each member of the group had managed to carry there. Carol had tried to chime in, but she preferred giving in to her husband protesting that she was going to be more useful watching the kids with Lori.  
They had to try and distract them anyway, injecting any sense of normality they could; they whipped out some books and tried to ease the kids into doing some homework with their help.  
Shane rounded up T-Dog and Morales after taking Daryl’s crossbow and Merle’s hunting knife had been handed over once again: the two brothers were still on probation in a way and they weren’t hunting at the moment, so there was no real need for them.   
  
“Anything I should know about this morning?” asked Shane, trying to keep his voice down. “Anything  _the group_  should be aware of?”  
Morales shrugged. “Look, the older one’s an ass, but they’re useful. Especially Daryl.”  
“Yeah, Merle’s just got a damn mouth on him, is all.” added T-Dog frowning. “At least that’s all we can say for now. Younger one’s a damn good shot.”  
Shane nodded and rubbed his head. “That sounds good. Until it sounds bad, I mean.”  
His voice was now just a low murmur.   
T-Dog leaned forward, confused. “What  _do_  you mean?”  
“I mean it can either work in our favor like this morning, or it can work against us. We don’t know these men. Don’t know anything about them besides they tried to ambush us and can catch squirrels.”  
Morales and T-Dog smiled briefly at each other. “Man, we don’t even know each other.” said the latter.  
Shane sighed and flashed a half-smile. “You sound like Glenn, you know.”  
“I’m cool with that.”  
  
“Guess he’s the boss of ‘em, huh?” said Merle kicking a rock while Daryl examined the firewood, trying to see if it was suitable to make some rudimental arrows with a bit of effort.  
“Seems like it.”  
“Took my damn knife.”  
“You ain’t gon’ need it for a while.” frowned his younger brother.  
“Until Rambo says so? I’ll be damned. I say we act tonight.”  
Dary’s eyes furiously shot up to glare at him. “The hell you talkin’ about?”  
His older brother snickered and crouched next to him. “Look, I’m not gonna play house with these fools, and if I’m not stayin’, you sure as hell aren’t. What’s gotten into you anyway?”  
He looked around, without waiting for an answer that wasn’t going to come. “This what you want? Since when?” he insisted.  
“Since I think with my goddamn head instead of my ass. We ain’t gon’ last long, two assholes on the road. Not now. We don’t know much about the shit that’s goin’ on out there. Be pretty stupid to pass up a good opportunity. I ain’t gonna get killed because you ruined this.”  
They had both been trying to keep their voices down without appearing suspicious, each with different reasons. If that hadn’t meant turning some heads, Merle would have shouted at that point. He threateningly leaned forward, daring his brother. “Nothin’ here to ruin. We don’t know them, they don’t know us. I say we use that to our advantage. Black bitch and Scarecrow are takin’ inventory, why don’t we help them? I wanna know what to take.”  
Daryl angrily stood up, keeping eye contact with his brother before walking away.   
“You do that, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” he growled.  
“Where you goin’ now? To thank Miss Saigon?” cooed Merle.  
“Damn right.”  
  
Glenn was washing the cans from breakfast by the quarry; he figured they could always come in handy and could be tied around the perimeter to signal the arrival of people, animals, or geeks. He heard a rock being kicked behind him and watched it tumble into the water.  
“Hey.”  
He slightly tensed up before glancing back to answer. “Hey.”  
It was the blond guy with the crossbow. Well, except he had no crossbow now. A little less menacing looking that way, but still.  
A moment of seemingly interminable, awkward silence ensued, before the younger man broke it by clearing his throat. “Uhm, thank you… before I forget.”  
“For what?”   
A simple question made him feel so stupid all of a sudden.  
“This morning.” Why did his face feel on fire again? The sun, yeah, had to be. He lowered his hat on his sweaty forehead.  
“You looked like you were gonna puke any second, Kid.”  
The taller man’s voice could not contain his amusement at all. He didn’t even want to.  
“I  _felt_  like I was gonna puke any second.” replied Glenn, trying to smile and causing Daryl to chuckle.  
“Guess I should thank you too.”  
“For what?” asked the younger man, visibly surprised. He hadn’t really thought that man capable of the seemingly sincere gratitude he had just expressed. He was surprised he talked at all instead of grunting.   
“Last night.”   
Oh, right. Stupid. He looked down with a half-smile. “It was only fair. You could’ve left me fall into the fire, but you didn’t.” he replied, eliciting a nod from the other, who turned curiously to his empty cans.  
“What you washin’ those for?” he asked pointing to them.  
“I figured if we tied them with a string around the perimeter they could let us know if something or someone is coming our way.”  
Another chuckle. “You’re a smart kid.” commented Daryl before starting to walk back to the fire pit.   
“Uh… thanks?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Merle have conflicting views on staying with the Atlanta camp survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merle alert for discriminatory language.
> 
> First published on yeunones.com's writing subsection on September 10, 2017.

Chapter Five

  
  
  
The sun was going higher up, as Daryl noticed through squinting eyes. That wasn’t good.  
He carefully approached Shane, making sure he was done talking with the two men that accompanied him and his brother hunting. Accompanied? Who was he kidding? Supervised.   
They weren’t in the inner circle yet, but they had to be. That was a good spot, plenty of water, surrounded by woods where they could hunt, enough muscle to defend that from looters hopefully. Who knew when things would get back to normal? Who knew if they’d even ever get back there…  
It was about surviving now, and that was their best shot. He and Merle had always been about that anyway. He huffed and strode over.    
  
“This a good time?” he attempted.  
Shane turned around carefully. He still didn’t trust him. “Good as any.”  
Better to just got for it. “Look, we’ve done somethin’ for you this morning. How about you do somethin’ for us?” Tense silence lingered between them and the taller man’s face darkened.  
“I don’t think I heard you correctly.” he almost growled.  
Daryl leaned in closer. “We got a pickup truck and a motorcycle stuck in a ditch not too far from here. With your group, we’d actually have the muscle to pull our shit out. We’re gon’ bring it here.”  
An interested glint sparkled in Shane’s eyes. That sounded almost too good to be true. They could use all the vehicles they could get. Could be used for shelter and storage, on top of transport. Soon they would have to scout the area around anyway and get supplies.  
“Got anythin’ else with you?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
“Barely.”  
The taller man sighed and gave a few slow nods. “ _Our_  group.”  
Daryl looked up at him, his brow furrowed in slight confusion.  
“It’s our group if you earn your keep as you are.”  
The shorter man reciprocated his nod, smiling on the inside. Didn’t even care Merle was probably going to lose his shit once he’d heard.  
  
The group gathered once again at Shane’s request. Daryl didn’t shy away from eye contact with a glaring Merle once news of their vehicles got out, even if he looked like he wanted to pull his tongue out and toss it in a fire. Gotta do what he gotta do.   
Not much had been reported in the inventory anyway. Jacqui had looked pretty sorry when Jim had listed what everyone had managed to bring over, almost as if it was her personal fault. Knowing that now they had two more vehicles to move around and scavenge for supplies brought relief to almost everyone standing in the circle, save Merle of course. He was going to give his brother hell later.  
Shane clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Gonna need all the muscle we can get, but can’t leave this camp unprotected.”  
Glenn took off his hat and tousled his hair. “I can stay and help Dale keep watch.”  
He felt a pair of eyes burn into his. “… And Andrea. I can help Dale and Andrea keep watch. And… whomever else wants to help here. I’d just be in the way out there.” he shrugged.  
Disappointment clouded Daryl’s eyes for a brief moment.  
“No, you’re going to be driving my Jeep.” objected Shane “We’re gonna use a car to help pull the truck and bike from the ditch. Dale, you got ropes in your RV? Anyone?”  
  
They chose to go with Shane’s and Morale’s cars to better tackle the terrain around the ditch and loaded what they could find to help pull the truck and the motorcycle out of the ditch. Shane was going to drive until they got there with Daryl’s navigation. It was doubtful Merle was going to be of any help; he’d kept his mouth shut ever since the stuck vehicles had been mentioned, strangely enough.  
T-Dog was the first to get in the back of the Jeep, followed by Glenn, who waved at him and smiled upon entering. “Tell me you’re not going to run off this time.” joked the bigger man, making him blush. “You’re a damn eel, you know that?”  
Glenn flashed him a bright smile and took off his cap. “I never actually thanked you for rescuing me.”  
T-Dog gestured him to shut up. “I never thought I’d see you again.”  
The Asian man widened his eyes, his guilt coming back at the thought T-Dog might have thought that he was really going to abandon them and run away on his own with the RV on which he’d laid his eyes while they were on the road, shortly before his embarrassing encounter with its actual owner.  
“I was gonna come back! I wanted to get the RV for us, seeing all the people you had rounded up…”  
A playful punch landed on his shoulder, hurting him a bit even though it wasn’t meant to, making him grimace. “We got the RV now.” concluded T-Dog cheerfully.  
“You ladies need a moment?” interrupted Daryl, taking his seat at the front with Shane, who snickered.   
“Ok Daryl, Morales and your brother are gonna be right behind us, just lead the way.”  
  
They had the chaos of the previous day and their timing heading out for spotting the two vehicles still in one piece where they’d been abandoned.   
“There.” pointed Daryl.   
“On it.” replied Shane, pulling over on the other side of the road from the ditch where an old, rusty pickup truck lay almost completely on its side, a motorcycle tied to the back.  
Shane had been half-expecting them to be at least partly stripped, or to see the tires missing, but there they were; would have shone under the sun if it hadn’t been for their dirt.  
Glenn shuffled next to T-Dog and leaned forward between the two front seats, trying to see better.   
“So… what kind of bike is it anyway?” he asked, painting a smirk on Daryl’s face.  
“’76 Triumph Bonneville. Merle’s. Damn fine lady. You into bikes, Kid?”  
The bike might have belonged to his older brother, but there was so much warmth in his tone when he talked about it, a lively sparkle in his cold eyes.  
He looked back at the younger man, who felt himself jerk back, not realizing how close he’d leaned.  
“Uhm, I…”  
The sound of the driver’s door being opened stifled the words in his throat, as Shane jumped out and clapped his hands together. “Let’s see what we got here.”   
He gestured towards Morales’ incoming car and smiled to himself, noticing the unimpressed expression of the Hispanic driver. Merle must have got his tongue back.  
  
Back at camp, Dale was going over the inventory once again with Jacqui.   
He tutted and shook his head every now and then. Organization was key, they had to optimize their scarce resources. They didn’t know how long they’d stay there, but it was a really good place where to set camp, they had to think of making it last as long as it was viable to stay there.  
Jacqui seemed to read his mind. “We can’t stay here for long.” she stated calmly. “Not without more supplies. Food and water I can get, but especially considering the infection, we can’t rot in our clothes forever and we’ve only brought over a few. Even sharing as much as possible, we need to get out there and get what we need to make this work.”  
Dale nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “Glenn’s the city kid and should know his way around pretty well, since he told me he delivers pizzas… or, well, delivered, I guess.”  
Jacqui waved a hand in front of his face. “Please don’t talk in the past. Not yet.”  
He sighed in reluctant agreement. “Anyway, I think he’s a safe bet. Don’t know who else yet. Amy’s from the city as well, but I’m not sure she’d be on board with that, you have a better chance asking Andrea. Were- I’m sorry,  _are_  you from the city, too?”  
Jacqui smiled. “Yes, I worked for the Atlanta zoning department. I’m sorry,  _work_.”  
  
The vehicle rescue mission had been accomplished, and the Dixon brothers got on Daryl’s old Ford, the Triumph secured on its bed. Daryl could almost feel electric sparks coming from his brother’s glare, but went on revving up the truck, pretending to ignore him.  
“Wanna tell me what the hell this was about?” asked Merle, unwilling to let go.  
“Got your bike back. You’re welcome.”  
“It ain’t mine no more, you don’t get it. Just another thing they’re gonna take. ‘Keep safe’ my ass. Can’t even go nowhere without a damn babysitter. I still smell like fucking spic.”  
“Ain’t worse than your usual smell.”  
That seemed to shut Merle up for a while. Much too short, because he was soon at it again.  
He leaned closer to his brother, feeling his blood boil. “Just what the hell d’ya think you’re doin’?”  
Daryl sighed. “Drivin’ us back to our camp. You blind or somethin’?”  
His older brother laughed. There was no merriment. It was just a jarring sound.  
“Oh I see, so it’s  _our_  camp now. Ain’t my camp for sure. We could turn around now and I wouldn’t give two shits about those people. Try our luck.”  
Daryl smirked and shook his head, having almost expected such a proposal. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere without my crossbow.”  
“You and that shitty toy.” muttered his older brother under his breath.   
  
“Shitty toy gets us food and allows us to survive. Shitty toy allowed us to stay.”  
Daryl’s voice had started as a low growl, but kept growing in volume.   
Merle looked at him in disbelief, disappointment gradually turning into amusement as he let out a wheezing laugh. “Stay? Why d’ya wanna  _stay_? I ain’t stayin’ in that hole with that freak show.”   
The younger of the brothers pursed his lips and mockingly nodded.   
“That hole’s where your knife is, you ain’t goin’ nowhere unarmed.”  
A chuckle alarmed him, as much as he didn’t show it on the outside. “No, it ain’t.”  
The sun reflected on the knife’s shiny surface as Merle slid it out of his boot.   
Daryl furrowed his brow and alternated between looking at the knife and the road, before slamming the brakes. “The hell did you do? You stole the knife?”  
“I didn’t steal shit, brother. This is mine. I took it back while helping with the inventory.”  
“Some help you are! Why you always gotta ruin everything! Get out of my fucking car!” he hissed.  
Merle’s finger pointed at Shane’s Jeep, which had stopped not far from them; they’d noticed they weren’t moving anymore, and that might have alerted them. Morales honked behind them. Daryl went stone-faced as he saw the two men in the back of the Jeep turn around on their seats in an inquisitive fashion. His eyes met Glenn’s and he was disappointed to see alarm, perhaps even mistrust? Was that it? Was he screwing up things already?  
He sighed and managed to lazily gesture everything was fine, before hissing to his brother: “If you wanted to go, you’d be long gone already with that fucking knife of yours. We’re goin’ back with them. I don’t give a shit if you got a problem with that. Tryna do somethin’ for us here. Just trust me for once.”  
He turned on the engine again and kept following Shane’s Jeep, both brothers in complete silence. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl has a story to tell at dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously suck at summaries as always. Try saying that five times faster, I know I can't.
> 
> Merle alert for discriminatory language. 
> 
> Pendejo is a strong-ish way to call someone stupid in Spanish; abuelita means granny/grandma.
> 
> First published on yeunones.com's writing subsection on September 14, 2017.

Chapter Six

  
  
“Coyote. Fantastic.” murmured Glenn tending to the main fire pit, seeing what the hunting party he’d been excluded from had just brought for dinner. Shane and Jim had gone with the Dixon brothers this time; he’d given for granted Shane would go check them out himself, hadn’t really stricken him as one for hunting.   
He himself wasn’t. At all. He just wanted to feel useful. To be seen as useful was an increasingly intolerable itch.   
He felt a hand on his shoulder and heard the words “You’ll get your chance.” Dale reading his mind. Was he really that obvious? He sighed, barely turning around to face him.  
“I’ve never hunted. Never even owned a firearm, let alone shot at something.” Not that he wanted to.  
“Daryl doesn’t have a firearm.”  
Glenn blinked in the older man’s direction and stopped for a second.   
"Just saying."  
“I don’t know how to use a crossbow.”   
“Ask him to teach you.” replied Dale in the most neutral-sounding tone he could come up with.  
  
The younger man chuckled in embarrassment.   
“Dale, stop. What’s he gonna use then? He’s not- teaching me…” he trailed off, looking down into the fire that he’d barely managed to keep going.   
Dale put his hands on his hips and shook his head.   
“It’d be best if all or at least enough of us learned to use weapons. Andrea’s going to have put her father’s gun to good use sooner or later, and you don’t even have that. As- shh, let me finish – quite a few others here, I know. Plenty of us can teach you. I can teach you how to use my rifle, you can go to Shane-“  
Glenn’s hand motioned him to stop. “I’m not hunting.” he stated in a firm tone, but with a sorry look in his eyes. More sorry for himself than anything.  
The older man’s hands went on his shoulders again, gently pressing down.  
“It’s not just about hunting. It’s about not being hunted. Not every man out there’s like Daryl.”   
  
“Beep-beep, motherfucker.” rumbled Daryl before chomping on a coyote’s thigh, eliciting laughter from everybody.   
Everybody except for two people: his older brother and the only Asian man at camp, who stared at him in much different ways.  
Merle tried to keep his smirk on, but on the inside he was fuming. They were wasting so much time.   
Idiots hadn’t even noticed he’d taken the knife, hell, didn’t even notice him putting it back right before they had to head out to hunt again. Shitheads. He and his brother could’ve been long gone by now, could’ve taken some of their guns and some ammo before bolting the fuck away – they’d even got their rides back now.   
But no, they had to play house and drink tea with dolls.   
All because of his stupid naïve little brother and some fucking chink to boot; weren’t they supposed to be all meek and silent? He could’ve kept his damn mouth shut and they wouldn’t be in that situation.   
He looked to the side to glare at him. “Look at this slanty, all deep in thought. Hell knows what he’s cookin’.” he thought to himself, before noticing that those dark eyes weren’t really just staring into space. Strangely intrigued, he followed the direction of that gaze. He grinned when he saw whom it landed on.  
“Would you look at that. Pansy to boot. No wonder.”  
  
T-Dog looked like that dinner was the best he’d eaten in a long while.   
“Nice of you to get us some Wile E’s on your first real night here.” he said, brushing aside their first rude encounter in a way Glenn never could.  
The tension from that night had never really left him. The fear had subsided, more or less; there were other things to be afraid of roaming around. The electric sparks that seemed to had run all over his body when they’d been ambushed were still there, reminding him of their presence from time to time.  
He couldn’t forgive himself for how defenseless he’d felt. He even had to be saved by his assailant.   
Dale was right, he couldn’t count on finding outside people as merciful.   
The memory of a strong arm pulling him back from the fire on which he’d been about to fall resurfaced.   
He remembered his heart pounding so hard in his chest it had seemed about to burst through and splatter on the man holding him; reading his own surprise reflected in the man before him the exact split second their eyes had locked onto each other.  
  
He hadn’t really noticed he’d been staring at said man the whole time, barely touching his own portion of food. Carl’s laughter at something his mother had just said brought him back to reality, making him slightly jerk his head back with a frown.  
“Sumthin’ wrong, Charlie?”  
Ugh. The older brother. Merle, was it?  
“Glenn.” he replied with a murmur, before flashing a faint smile without really looking.   
The younger Dixon allowed himself an almost imperceptible smirk; his brother wasn’t as amused, but just nodded with a forced grin, staring at the Asian man.   
Andrea’s intrigued voice caught his attention. “Didn’t even think you could catch coyotes around here.” she said, leaning forward on her crossed legs.  
“All sorts of things roamin’ around, princess. My brother here thinks he even saw a damn chupacabra.”  
Daryl interrupted his chewing to spit back: “I don’t  _think_ , I know I did.”  
Glenn gulped hard and went to fix his eyes on him again. “What now?” he asked, almost choking on cartilage.   
The Morales family started buzzing. “It’s real, ok, abuelita saw one- No, she was in her twenties!”  
“Pendejo…”  
“It’s damn real.” continued Daryl “That blood-suckin’ bitch’s as real as those walkin’, rottin’ corpses. Saw it my own eyes.”  
  
Glenn kept his lips parted and lightly squeezed his own knees, sitting cross-legged in front of the food he’d now abandoned, listening to the blond bowman’s recount of his encounter with the beast one night in a field not too far from the Dixon house, close to a farm.   
Merle noticed with a chuckle no one seemed to register that the Asian man even  _flinched_  at the crudest points in the story, seemingly drinking in every single word coming from his brother as if he’d never heard anyone speak plain English in his life before. What a fucking spectacle.  
Morales kept wagging his finger first in Daryl’s direction and then in his wife’s next to him as the tale continued, his kids much less skeptical as she just smiled at her husband’s solicitude.  
Daryl hadn’t managed to catch the chupacabra. It had fled in one of the very few times in his life he’d missed a shot with his crossbow.  
It had outrun him, leaving behind an agonizing goat with blood spurting out of its mauled throat. Even following the trail of blood at the first lights of morning he couldn’t really find it, the sulphurous slime it had left the night before vanished just as much as it was, leaving as only testimonies the afterimage of its glowing red eyes and the goat that Daryl put out of its misery.  
  
Most of the group looked at each other with half-disbelieving intrigue, some chuckled and brushed off the incident. It had been night after all, that could have been anything. Daryl’s mind had played tricks.  
There was no such thing as that goatsucker, was it? That’d have been the day.  
“I believe him.” stated Glenn with a firmness in his tone that surprised even him.   
Everyone turned around to look at him. “I believe him.” he repeated more softly, avoiding the piercing stares of the Dixon brothers and resuming to eat his now very cold portion of coyote.  
Morales nodded full of conviction, ignoring his wife’s playful swat on his arm.   
“He  _is_  a smart kid after all.” Daryl found himself thinking, while his older brother next to him clicked his tongue and shook his head in the same fashion as Shane.   
Andrea had listened with rapture and poked her more impressionable sister, pretending to bite her neck, making the kids laugh until Lori breathed sharply through her nose.   
“I don’t think we should be putting these ideas into the kids’ minds. Got enough to deal with as it is.”  
Dale agreed solemnly before redirecting the conversation to his own hunting escapades back in the day.  
  
The next morning came rather aggressively for Glenn.   
He’d only insisted on a second night of guard duty because he felt he couldn’t really fall asleep anyway and needed some time by himself; with or without a weapon, he could still be useful on top of the RV, able to scout any strange movement and be heard by others if necessary.   
He actually  _had_  fallen asleep on the camping chair, his hat falling off, Dale’s binoculars in precarious balance on his lap as his legs had parted in his sleep.  
He squeezed his eyes as the rays of the rising sun started hitting his now unprotected brow.  
“Mom… I said five minutes…” he mumbled, batting his eyelids and licking his dry lips.  
“Oh, shit! Nonono… “  
He bent down to grab his hat, almost knocking the chair over, and looked around in a frenzy.   
Everything seemed… fine? Tents in place, no trails of blood, no signs of attack, nothing missing apparently…   
Morales peacefully snoring with a shotgun over his lap. What a night for guard duty for him too.  
The Asian man took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, relieved at that sight. He had to pee pretty bad though. With all the stealth he was capable of early in the morning, he came down from the RV and stretched his jeans around his crotch with a slight groan, staggering towards a tree as he pushed his hat further down his forehead to protect himself from the sun.   
  
“Oh God…” Jesus, he was so full of piss his bladder was on fire and the burning stream just seemed to never end.  He thought he had finished, when he heard something splash not too far from him.   
That couldn’t be him, could he? Man, he was still half asleep. He was so going to get busted.  
The splashes of something moving around in the water caught his attention and made him turn around towards the pristine water body.   
A naked body with powerful broad shoulders stood with its back to him. The sun caressing the man’s blondish hair had made him stop in his tracks for some reason, his eyes starting to wonder down the nape of his neck, to cover the span of his shoulder and trail further down his back – just in time for the man to dive underwater.   
He couldn’t help gaping his mouth.   
Daryl emerged and shook the water off his hair, deciding to turn around with perfect timing, finding the younger man frozen, his eyes comically widened, his mouth gaped, his pants slid down and his hand still holding his cock.   
The older man had to try really hard not to push the corner of his lips back into a smirk.  
“Good morning, Vietnam.”     
  
“Morning…” Glenn waved with one hand, the other petrified around his dick, the most ridiculous forced smile baring his teeth.   
“Need help?” That smirk was inevitable now for Daryl.  
“Peeing.” Glenn heard himself blurt out.   
“What?”  
The Asian man grit his teeth at the growing volume of the other’s voice, quickly looking around.  
“I’m- I was… peeing. I’m done now.”   
Daryl rubbed his head and let out a small wheezing chuckle, much purer than what habitually came out his brother’s mouth. “Good for you, Kid.”  
The younger man fumbled to pull up his pants and almost caught his penis in the zipper, inhaling sharply through his teeth.   
“Christ, go soft. Go soft.” he thought, flashing an awkward smile to the naked man in the water before rushing back towards the RV, hoping they nobody else had woken up yet.   
Daryl chuckled to himself seeing him trip and almost falling to the ground, stopping his fall with his hands and uttering a low “Fuck!” through his teeth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenn is a ladykiller. First supply run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First published on yeunones.com's writing subsection on September 17, 2017.
> 
> Quaint chapter, mostly about Glenn. Original character present. 
> 
> Some silly fun, although you might pick up on a few things important for later chapters. 
> 
> Enjoy my penchant for terrible summaries and notes.

Chapter Seven

  
  
“You know what I just can’t wrap my head around?” asked Shane, examining Dale’s Remington, earning a curious look from the older man.   
He gestured with his head towards the Dixon brothers, who were getting their weapons back from Morales before their hunting trip.   
“ _Those_  two specimens. We inspected their rides. Not much, even though those lucky bastards got us there before any looters could take any of their shit. They got weapons though. Two Brownings. Older one’s old Winchester. Told ya I wasn’t buying for a second that a couple redneck hunters had no gun with them. What I don’t understand is why they’d risk leaving those guns behind. Pretty damn stupid if you ask me. Not what I’d expect from sly sons of bitches.”  
Dale had listened carefully. Perhaps it was Glenn’s influence, but he still had difficulty comparing the two brothers that way.   
Merle was the one who had rightfully come across as matching the colorful expression just used by Shane, not his younger brother.   
Daryl was more level-headed and more on the smart side rather than just cunning; he just had the wrong brother to tag along with.  
He didn’t doubt Daryl Dixon had decided to stay for selfish reasons: fellows like him were about themselves, and tended not to function within a group.   
However, at least he seemed to have come to mean them no harm. His older brother was – what was it that Glenn had said? A wild card. He was the only real wild card.  
It didn’t feel right to see the both of them as one and the same.  
  
“Shane, we both know this was more Merle than Daryl.” he attempted in a grandfatherly tone.  
“That supposed to comfort me?”  
“I’m just saying, Merle seems a little… on the rash side, and you’ve seen how his little brother just follows him around like a puppy. It should be clear by now that it was Merle’s idea and they didn’t know how many we could be, that’s why they had to sneak around. We should be thankful they didn’t come more heavily armed, or the night of our encounter could’ve ended in a bloodbath.”  
The taller man smirked and ran a hand through his own curls. “Encounter? Is that what you call an ambush?”  
Dale rolled his eyes a little too dramatically for a man his age, but didn’t respond.   
The younger man in front of him put his hands on his hips and looked at the ground between them, deep in thought.   
“You know, maybe they’re smarter than I thought. I mean, this sector of the camp had just two people on guard, even if it’s the better organized. The other sector’s too crowded. ‘Lot of old people, but there was more that could go wrong and attract attention. Come to think of it I’d have done the same.”  
The elderly man cocked his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”  
Shane nodded with conviction and shot up to look at him straight in the eyes.   
“Lure the main threats to different directions and stealthily take them out. No guns. No unnecessary noise. Just a big ass knife to the throat, an arrow through someone’s head... Could’ve killed in their sleep anyone who could come after me later. Take what was necessary. Hell, even occupy this goddamn camp. Take it for myself.”   
  
Sweat drops had started trailing down Dale’s forehead.   
He couldn’t decide whether it was mainly the sun’s fault or the worry that had grown in him in direct proportion to Shane’s fervor.   
The taller man just patted him on the shoulder and uttered something about giving it a rest and seeing how things would go, before attracting the attention of the Dixon brothers with a loud whistle through his fingers. He gestured them to wait for him to head out, then handed the Remington back to Dale.  
“Fine rifle. I still feel more comfortable with my Mossberg.” he commented, showing his trusty shotgun and resting it on his shoulder, before turning around to wave Lori and Carl.  
The smile on his face… it was like that conversation had never happened. Like he had never uttered those words in that tone. Astonishing.   
Dale mumbled his good wishes for the hunt, before instinctively casting a concerned look over Andrea, Amy, and Glenn, who were gathered around Jacqui.   
That  _had_  to stay a safe place for them.   
  
“Why don’t I get to go?” asked Amy, more bored than frustrated.  
Glenn didn’t really register that. “Great. Now she has one more reason to hate me.” he thought to himself, scratching through his baseball cap.  
Jacqui and Andrea exchanged a quick look before the latter put her hands on her sister’s shoulder and smiled. “Because this is better for you. For now. It’s an extension of the road trip we were taking anyway. I wanted to bring you  _out_  of the city, I’m in no hurry to bring you back  _in_  it.”  
She gestured at the camp and nature all around them. “This is nice. This is… quaint.”  
“This is boring.”  
Andrea made a surprised sound before Jacqui interjected. “Amy, you’re the youngest woman here and Sophia and Eliza for one could sure use your company.”  
Amy sighed softly, mumbling something about babysitting duties.  
“We’re trying not to get too many people out of this camp at once.” tried Glenn, not looking away when she made eye contact. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even that hostile. He could go on and that wouldn’t fall on deaf ears. “It’s safer here. You wanted to be safe, might as well stay.”  
  
There was a moment of silence he found absolutely deafening. He was afraid he had sounded patronizing, and that was the last thing he wanted to sound like to Amy after their fight. He realized he hadn’t really apologized to her, and wasn’t sure if they were good now that the Dixon brothers didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore and had proven themselves more useful than dangerous. He knew that Andrea was on board now, but she seemed far more adaptable than her younger sister. He could feel himself already starting to grow attached to the both of them.  
That wasn’t the least bit surprising: they reminded him so much of his own sisters. He almost had to physically shake off that thought. Didn’t want to start thinking about his own real family, especially in front of others. It was bad enough when his mind wandered there when he was alone with his thoughts.  
Thankfully, Amy’s face softened and she let out a small sigh.  
His face lit up when he heard her say “Well, thank you for caring, I guess I’ll stay.” and saw her smile softly.  
  
When the small scavenging group went to recruit him, T-Dog was laughing and waltzing with Candice, one of the elderly ladies in the other sector of that camp; she was one of the very first people he’d rescued.   
She wasn’t really that lucid anymore. In the van, she’d kept mistaking Glenn for her own son, who was long dead. His jeans pocket still housed the mint candy she’d insisted on giving him, safely wrapped in clear plastic.   
“This is because you always study hard.” she’d smiled.  
They were of different races, but Glenn had found himself almost tearing up at how much she reminded him of his own mother. She had a white dress with pink roses embroidered on the chest that he was so sure he’d seen his mother wear often in the past. Even her pristine laugh was painfully similar.  
That was why he tended to avoid that sector, although he enjoyed the company of elderly people.   
He’d worked in a nursing home when he was younger and, even though the job had its crappy sides (literally), he was always very grateful for the wisdom poured into his ears by the patients.  
He smiled sheepishly, averting his eyes, but there was no need because Candice seemed to be more lucid than usual and she didn’t start treating him like he was her son.  
She didn’t even pay attention to him until she suddenly turned her head and fixed her eyes on him.  
  
The young Asian swallowed a bit harder under her inspection, expecting her to embrace him again and start telling him how much she’d missed him and asking him about school.  
She squinted and adjusted her glasses, coming a little closer, before lifting Glenn’s hat just enough to see more of his face. She stepped back and nodded to herself.   
Glenn looked at T-Dog, unsure of what to do or think.   
“You’re an exceptionally beautiful young man.” stated Candice with almost comical solemnity, making him blush while T-Dog covered his mouth with his fist to avoid laughing.  
“Uhm… thank you, that’s not me-“  
She continued relentlessly. “What a fine young gentleman. I love Asian men, I’ve always liked them best of all. You must have a girlfriend though. You’re too handsome not to, those like you are always taken.”  
T-Dog tried his best to disguise his snickers as bouts of cough, Andrea and Jacqui smiling at each other.   
“I-I don’t, ma’am.” replied Glenn with a timid, almost apologetic smile.  
Candice gasped softly. “Well, then you  _must_  have a boyfriend!”  
Glenn gaped his mouth seeing the rest of his supply run group bite their fingers to stifle chuckles.  
“I- no, that… don’t have one. No boyfriend for me.” he concluded with a now definitely apologetic chuckle, wishing to sink into the ground on the spot.   
  
“Hope you ladies don’t mind if my man here gets to sit at the front today.” said T-Dog, keeping the door of his van open for the two women to get in. “That way I get to be a fine young gentleman too.” he added, winking at a groaning Glenn.  
“Not at all.” said Andrea with a smile. Behind her, Jacqui playfully curtsied and laughed.   
Glenn plopped onto his seat and took off his hat, placing it on his lap as he began absent-mindedly running his fingers through his hair.   
There was an ache he couldn’t really identify, but it wasn’t in his body.   
He was starting to care too much about the people around him, yet again. God, even seeing Candice for the second time had made him so afraid of what would happen if she died.  _When_ , rather. That was the worst part. It was going to happen.  
All the people in that van with him - he’d known them for so little time, yet he felt like he’d break like a dry twig if anything were to happen to any of them on that run.  
The thought of not hearing Andrea’s or T-Dog’s laugh or not seeing Jacqui’s warm smile anymore terrified him.   
It wasn’t just about them, it was about him too; he always lost out by not being on his own. Having others around meant caring about them, and that implied a price he was tired of paying. Then again, he’d come to learn the hard way that distancing himself was not the answer.  
  
“Nonono wait, turn the volume up!” Andrea’s request startled him, interrupting his stream of thoughts.  
He hadn’t even noticed T-Dog had turned on the van’s radio.   
“Of course I’m turning it up, this is my jam!” exclaimed T-Dog, clapping his hands and starting to sing along to “I was made for loving you”, prompting Jacqui and Andrea to follow suit full of enthusiasm.   
Glenn looked at him with silent curiosity for almost a good minute, before asking: “ _This_  is your jam?”   
“Yeah man, I love this song!”   
“Didn’t really picture you as a Kiss kind of guy.”  
“I’m a  _love_  kinda guy first and foremost, my friend. Anyway, what’s  _your_  jam?” inquired the bigger man, nudging him.  
He felt Andrea playfully kicking his seat from behind. “Yeah ladykiller, what’s your jam?”  
“Ah… Oh God, there are just so many songs… Hmm, if I have to pick just one-“  
“Of course you gotta pick just one!” erupted in unison T-Dog and Jacqui.  
The Asian man laughed. “Uhm, ok, I guess it’d have to be O-Town’s All or Nothing.”  
Three “What?”s boomed in the van. “And just what is that? I ain’t never heard of it.” said the other man.  
Andrea let out a soft gasp. “Oh no wait, I know what that is. It’s a boy band. I still remember Amy’s phase.”  
Glenn turned around to playfully wag his finger at his companions. “Don’t you guys give me those faces after singing your heart out to a song by dudes spitting fake blood while wearing clown white make-up!”  
“It was just the one guy.” clarified T-Dog in a solemn tone. “Gene Simmons.” nodded Jacqui, while Andrea stifled her chuckles, before leaning forward to reach out and steal Glenn’s hat, plopping it on her own head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed Peletier has some serious issues that can be easily solved with a crossbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First published on the writing subsection of yeunones.com on September 18, 2017.
> 
> Some stuff finally happens. 
> 
> Merle's in this chapter, and he's his racist and homophobic self, you know, the usual.
> 
> There's an addition that would be convenient to keep in mind for a future chapter; quite possibly the next one, as things are starting to move faster, or at least they should be.

Chapter Eight

  
  
Nobody lost anyone on their first supply run. Mainly because they hadn’t ventured as far as they had initially intended.   
The road back from Atlanta was impossibly congested by mostly abandoned cars, although someone was still trying to make their way on foot, so they had to come back the same way they’d gone from the camp.   
They saw a couple of people gesturing them to stop from the other side of the road, but Glenn grabbed T-Dog’s shoulder, telling him adamantly not to stop for anyone, since they couldn’t put their camp at risk.  
There were already enough people. There were 19 of them, plus another small family and the old people T-Dog had rescued. 33 people were plenty, if that place got too crowded it’d be a disaster and they had to count themselves lucky no one else had made their way there to complicate things.  
Well, save for Merle and Daryl. T-Dog made sure to remind him of that.   
“That was different, it was an emergency! It was the only way to pacify a conflict and you know that.” replied Glenn, determined to shake off his own feelings of guilt.  
T-Dog had silently convened before spacing out for a moment. “What happens if things go south again?”  
They all looked at each other without uttering a word. Andrea took out her own gun, staring at it pensively.  
  
They were out till almost sundown, collecting what they could: mostly canned food from the community food bank and articles of clothing.   
They made sure to get some medical and hygiene products before making a mental note of getting gas, ammo, and auto parts just in case on their next run. They ought to become quicker and not rely on what they could get next, but they reported no losses and took out quite a few geeks.   
Now at least they had some clothes to actually change into; not much to go on, but still. They were starting to become aware of the body odor from the few days gone without showering. Better to do something about it when they could. There was already an epidemic going around anyway.  
There was a shower on Dale’s RV but it was cramped and only a few people had actually gone for taking turns in it, knowing they most likely had to keep the same clothes anyway for a few days at least.  
Daryl had been the first person to Glenn’s knowledge to bathe in the quarry water at camp; why hadn’t he thought of that before? He was so not an outdoorsy kind of guy. That had to change, and fast.  
  
He was cast out of his home by the outbreak and had to live in a reservoir with strangers, yet in the safety of T-Dog’s car, unable to join the other’s mindless chatter, he found it natural to let his thoughts go back to that morning.   
He still had flashes of Daryl diving underwater while he himself was too close for comfort and with his cock whipped out like an idiot.  
That hadn’t been all that bad, if he had to be honest with himself; at least not now that he was no longer making a complete fool of himself. There was just something about that mental image he couldn’t resist.  
He couldn’t help imagining himself naked in the quarry along with Daryl, that had him bent over on all fours so that only his head and back stayed out of the water, the dimples close to his butt firmly pressed on by the man behind him as he was rocked back and forth by initially slow, deep thrusts.   
He groaned, his movements at the same time accompanying and hastening Daryl’s pace, until his hand grabbed a fistful of Glenn’s hair and started pounding him into the gravel and sand digging into his knees, transforming his grunts into moans that grew in volume.   
Daryl’s free hand reached around to wrap around his cock and pump it in sync with his trust, having him full on screaming.   
  
“Glenn! You ok?” T-Dog’s voice snapped him out of it.  
“Huh?” The Asian man’s head spun around to face the driver with an impressive quickness.   
He looked like a kid who had just been discovered after breaking a really fancy, expensive vase.  
“Are you ok, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost and your silence’s creeping me out.”  
Andrea reached out to touch his shoulder and the sudden actual physical contact made him slightly flinch.  
“I’m- uh, it’s just… this is strange. It’s kind of surreal, really. I’ll be fine, I just can’t help thinking I could’ve done more.” he blurted out. He wasn’t lying after all.  
“We’ll get the hang of it.” replied Jacqui, reclining her head. “Not bad for our first time.”  
The other woman nodded and gently squeezed Glenn’s shoulder before leaning back on her seat.  
Of all the people he could’ve gone on his first run, those were probably the best he could have ended up with in the group, those that made him feel more grounded – except maybe Dale. But Dale had this way of unsettling him with his own wisdom and this way of… just  _knowing_  things, that already started to make him feel like he had to put up a shield to guard his own thoughts, random or not, from those eyes that seemed to see everything.  
  
“Can’t keep this up forever, you know.” stated Daryl matter-of-factly as the hunting party was heading back, prompting Shane to tilt his head and glare at him.   
“Can’t keep  _what_  up?”  
“Huntin’. Can’t keep doin’ it everyday, gotta slow down on Mother Nature.”  
Morales expressed his agreement and lightly shook the ropes that tied their bounty of squirrels and rabbits.  
“There’s around 30 of us. The older people don’t need much in terms of food and the Martins mostly take care of them, but we’re still a lot.”   
Merle shook his head, thinking to himself that all those people were being stupid as hell by keeping around those dying relicts. Didn’t need much to eat, but they were still a waste of resources and attention.  
Lucky enough they occupied a smaller sector of the camp and were mostly looked after by a small family that habitually vacationed there. Mother was a nurse. Father had never once wanted to join their hunting trips, always went alone when he fancied and by the look on his face it was because he had something against him and his brother. Fuck him.   
Shane and his group didn’t exactly like them, but they could still get over it and do what made the most sense.  
Not that he was that happy about it. He still thought his little brother was being an idiot by wanting to hand around those stupid cunts.  
  
His baby brother really thought there were going to stay in that hole, babysat the whole time because a bunch of assholes shat themselves at the thought they could pull some shit on them. Well, too bad. Now they had everything they needed: their rides, their guns… no more need to stay, if there ever was. He knew Daryl was going to show some resistance but, hell, it just made it more fun.  
He’d comply in the end, just as he always did. He’d see that Merle was right, that they had no business there, that they were better off on their own.   
The sooner they left, the better. His little brother had a rough exterior, but he had too much heart for his own good. Hanging around with a bunch of pussies, negroes, and spics wasn’t going to help.  
And then there was that chink, the whole reason why they’d gotten stuck there; Jesus, had he  _really_  been staring at his brother and acting all flustered because he had the hots for Daryl? That would be the day.  
Where in the fucking hell had they ended up? The world really  _had_  come to an end.  
To think someone in that bunch could be eyeing up his brother when they had some rather fine female specimens; it was almost like the dirt and the sweat in that situation made them even more fuckable.  
Maybe he’d have some fun himself before saying adios to that shitty place.  
  
“Who’d you bring this shit for, boy?” spat Ed, unceremoniously flinging back into Glenn’s arms the couple of shirts he’d just brought him from their run.   
The young man frowned as he caught the shirts and attempted to say something before getting cut off.  
“Are you blind? They clearly don’t fit. This is what a man’s supposed to look like, not all of us are twigs.”  
Glenn stared at him for a moment, not tired enough to just drop it and walk away.  
“This is the best we could do. We didn’t exactly go shopping.” he replied, irk making its way through a hard day’s weariness.  
Ed’s eyes looked like they could bulge right out of their sockets and his face flamed red.  
Carol’s apologetic demeanor turned into terror as she instinctively shielded Sophia with her arms.  
“What the hell’d you just say to me?” her husband asked, at first in too much of a low rumble to be really heard.   
Glenn clenched his jaw, realizing just in how much trouble he might’ve gotten himself into, but didn’t back down despite trying to soften his stare and not uttering a word.  
Merle and Daryl had just come back from getting firewood, and as they placed their piles on the ground, the older Dixon brother snickered into the other’s ear: “Trouble in paradise. This is gonna be good, baby brother.” Daryl looked up and turned around to where his brother was pointing.   
“Looks like some yellow ass is gonna turn red.” commented Merle, darting his tongue out to lick his lips.  
  
“You’ve really got some nerve for a pretty boy.” gnarled Ed, getting up to step towards the Asian man, who made a calming gesture towards Carol and her daughter, as Ed’s wife mouthed an apology.  
 Unnerved by Glenn’s silent stare, the bigger man pushed him, making him stagger back not to lose balance.  
“Mulan’s about to learn her goddamn place.” exclaimed Merle, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
That was going to be the most fun he’d had in quite a while and he was ready to enjoy every second of it, his eyes positively twinkling.   
His brother ignored him and ran over to Morales, hissing: “You hand me my crossbow or I swear to God I’ll punch the Spanish out of your damn mouth.”  
The Hispanic man gaped his mouth at him for a moment before obliging.  
The commotion had started to turn a few heads. Shane gestured to Lori to remain seated and keep Carl by her side, as he approached Ed with Dale and Andrea.  
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” asked Shane as Ed gave Glenn a second shove.  
Ed ignored his wife’s soft pleads to stop it and slowly turned towards Shane, before growling: “Not gonna take shit from a little boy and sure as hell not from you, you ain’t the boss of me.”  
He grabbed Glenn by his shirt and dragged him forward. The younger man grit his teeth trying to anchor himself down. He didn’t want to have to fight an asshole for something so stupid.  
  
Merle had been so busy with his fascinated anticipation for the visibly unfair fight that he hadn’t really noticed his brother shooting up to Morales to retrieve his crossbow before noiselessly approaching the man who held in place the Asian by his shirt.  
He only suddenly noticed his displacement when he pointed his crossbow at Ed and said in a rumble: “You’re gon’ take an arrow though your thick skull if you don’t back the hell off.” Gasps and whispers commented his intervention.   
Shane and Dale glanced at each other, before looking at the bowman with a mix of alarm and suspicion.   
Glenn, who’d uselessly grabbed Ed’s wrists, stared at the blond in thankful amazement.  
“Daryl, don’t…” he murmured. He was in deeper shit than he’d initially thought and didn’t want to drag others into it. Certainly not him. His plead had gone unheard, as Daryl kept ready for action, while his older brother tried to get him to stay out of it. “Ain’t no need to get in a fight that isn’t yours, brother.”  
Daryl cocked an eyebrow as he kept staring at Ed. “Be doin’ everybody a favor, really.”  
Glenn felt he had to do something, anything, struggling to slip away from the bigger man’s grasp.  
“Guys, stop, it’s just two stupid shirts-“  
“You keep that trap shut, big mouth.” cut him off Ed, before an arrow half an inch from his foot made him almost whimper. His face looked completely different now that a threat to him had just become a little more real.   
“Next one ain’t gon’ miss.” warned the bowman under his brother’s disbelieving eyes.  
  
Glenn sighed with relief and staggered backwards as two large hands released him from their grasp.   
He breathed deeply as the bigger man in front of him alternated between glaring at him and the younger Dixon. Ed snatched the two shirts from the younger man and carefully stepped back. “It’s not even worth it.” he muttered, causing Glenn to have to prevent himself from scoffing.   
The Asian man turned to cast a shy, grateful smile to his savior before going back to distributing the clothes brought back from the run. Daryl nodded firmly and gave a meaningful look to the man who’d just stepped down from the fight.  
Glenn walked over to Lori and huffed, handing her some clothes for herself and her son.  
“Remind me what Ed does around here again.” he muttered through his teeth.  
“A whole lot of nothing.” replied Lori, examining one of the shirts. “Thank you for these clothes, Glenn. You risked your life out there.” she smiled, rubbing his shoulder.  
“So did T-Dog, Jacqui, and Andrea. But you’re more than welcome.” he smiled back.  
It was true, but it felt pretty good to be thanked in that specific way, there was no denying that.  
He almost felt like he deserved it, for once.  
  
Merle grabbed his younger brother and pulled him aside as things got quieter and everybody else was minding their own business.   
“What the hell was that?” he hissed into his ear.  
“Me showing an asshole the way to fuck off.” Spat Daryl, letting his crossbow rest against his own leg. No one had objected to him keeping it for the time being after he’d stepped up for Glenn that way.  
“Wasn’t your fight, you idiot.”  
“Wasn’t what you said the countless time I had to get you outta trouble, you prick.”  
Merle wheezed as he laughed. “Never thought I’d see you jump to the rescue of a little Asian cunt.”  
His younger brother scoffed and stepped back, trying to walk out of that. He crouched and started tending to his crossbow, cleaning the string the best he could using his spit and his shirt. How much of a chance was there that the Kid and the others could find him some nice String Snot on their next run? He’d have to make do.  
Merle tapped his foot and crouched next to his brother, leaning as close as he could. He liked to invade people’s personal spaces, even though his brother was generally unfazed by it unless he was seriously pissed off. “We ain’t pansies now, huh, baby brother?”  
  
“The hell you’re talkin’ about…” muttered Daryl, looking straight into his eyes as he stopped cleaning.  
“I step up for a kid and that makes me a faggot? Was the right thing to do. Ain’t seen nobody else lift a damn finger.”  
His older brother chuckled, seeing all the fire spitting out of Daryl’s tongue.   
“ _Easy_  now, brother. It’s just that I’ve seen how that slanty looks at you… how he acts around you and-“  
“And you’re so full of shit you can’t even tell how damn awkward he is ‘round everyone. Shit, he’s even awkward around  _himself_.”  
Merle brought up his palms in a surrendering gesture and got up snickering as he walked away, mumbling something about menstruation even though his younger brother was no longer really listening.  
He kept staring at the string of his crossbow for a moment, then gently squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger and dragged his fingers down its length, collecting the grime that had already started accumulating since the last time he’d cleaned that.   
He scoffed and shook his head, glancing back at Merle for a moment before rubbing the dirt off his hands on the rag.   
Something told him he was going to take his time cleaning his crossbow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chupacabra incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super NSFW with dub-con (but yeah it's actually consensual, don't worry), a bit of canon divergence and supernatural elements. 
> 
> First posted in the writing subsection of yeunones.com on September 25, 2017.

Chapter Nine

 

  
  
Heavy breaths made Glenn’s chest and shoulders heave and sink, as far as the ropes tying him to a tree could. The sun had barely risen and the chill in the air made his nipples perk up, goosebumps all over his naked body.  
“Daryl??” echoed his voice through the woods, far from their camp. He tried to deepen his breaths and take in more air. “This isn’t funny!”  
Twigs cracked somewhere he couldn’t pinpoint.   
“Not to you, it ain’t.”  
Daryl appeared from behind a tree, casually throwing an apple in the air before catching it as he approached him.   
The Asian man grit his teeth as his hair was pushed back and the apple was place right on his head.  
The older man stepped back a little to admire his work. “So pretty.”  
The apple dropped on the ground with a jerk of Glenn’s head, before a loud slap landed on his cheek and his head was roughly tilted back by his hair.   
“You wanna do this nicely or badly?” hissed Daryl in his face, making him inhale sharply and tense up against the ropes.  
“Nicely.” he sighed.   
“Good boy.”  
  
He winced at Daryl pinching the cheek he’d slapped before placing the apple back on his head, shivering as he watched him walk away.   
“Ok, I think that’s far enough!”  
“Shut your trap, I know what I’m doin’.”  
“I think you may be overestimating your aim.”  
“Time to find out.”   
The younger man sucked in air and held his breath as the other prepared his arrow and steadied his footing to shoot. Glenn squeezed his eyes shut a moment before Daryl released the arrow, clenching his fists behind the tree as it hit its target, bits of the apple flying around, juice dripping down his face.  
“You happy now?!” he shouted, struggling against the ropes as the older man walked back towards him to retrieve his arrow.  
“Almost.” rumbled Daryl, kissing him hungrily as he moaned in his mouth.   
  
The taller man held him by his throat making him gasp for air as he licked the outline of his ear.  
The tip of arrow then trailed along his neck, chest, abdomen, stopping right above his pubic hair before the arrow was discarded. He writhed against his restraints as Daryl’s hands started stroking his shaft and fondling his balls, the older man grazing his nipples with his teeth before circling them with his tongue and sucking on them.  
“Daryl, I can’t… ngh, fffuck-“  
“Can’t you keep your mouth shut for a couple of minutes?” growled Daryl. “These will keep it busy. Suck’em good.” He snaked two fingers in Glenn’s mouth, smirking at Glenn’s head bobbing up and down to coat them in his saliva. His other hand went down to unzip his own pants so that he could stroke his hard length, enjoying the view in the meantime.  
Glenn made a few protesting sounds when his dick and balls were abandoned, but obeyed nonetheless, sucking dutifully along those callous fingers until they were briskly pulled away.  
  
Daryl’s other hand hovered near his face, showing its palm. “Spit on it and lick it.”  
He did as he was told and swallowed hard when the other stroked himself with it, coating his own cock with his saliva. The fingers he’d sucked on then searched inside him, causing him to groan and squirm.  
“Careful, Kid. Don’t break my damn fingers.” snickered Daryl as he clenched down.   
The taller man positioned himself between his legs and entered him slowly, holding him against the tree as he bucked with a sound halfway between a loud moan and a scream.  
Daryl’s hand then went to grip his throat, not tightly enough to cut off his airway in any significant way, but still did the job. The bark scraped his skin and Daryl slammed inside of him, plunging in a slow, deep fashion at first, then gradually picking up the pace until he was pounding him into the tree and he was no longer just moaning and whimpering, but full-on screaming, in contrast to Daryl’s intermittent grunts accompanying his thrusts.  
  
Sweat started to pearl their skins when Daryl wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping him while slamming inside of him, causing him to squirm and burning his skin against the ropes, loud cries escaping his constricted throat as best as they could.  
The taller man’s hand stopped pumping his dick and went to grab his chin.   
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ come without my permission.” he spat in Glenn’s face, not so secretly enjoying the sight of his watering eyes and the sound of his whimpers.  
“I-I really need to…”  
“You know how this works, Kid.”  
Glenn huffed and looked around as if he could find his words hanging in the air.   
“Uhm… please?”  
Daryl snicker vibrated softly through his cock. “Tell me what you are.” he commanded, slowing his thrusts and tugging on Glenn’s nipples.  
“I’m, uh- I’m… ungh, I’m your fuckdoll, ok?! I’m your fuckdoll!”  
“Make it convincin’.”   
  
The older man pulled almost completely out before slamming back in as deeply as he could, punching the air out of Glenn. “Aaaah!!! I’m your fuckdoll, I’m your little slut, I’m just an ass for you to fuck hard everyday! Please,  _please_  let me come!!!”  
Red marks and bruises were scattered all over as the ropes chafed against his struggling body.  
The older man chuckled, reveling in those pleads, savoring each word.  
“Could’ve thrown in a ‘sir’, but alright. Come for me, fuckdoll.”   
Daryl wrapped a hand around his cock and the other around his throat, thrusting harder and faster, making him gasp between each thrust.  
Glenn’s body was shaking, bucking against his restraints, bark digging into his skin just like the ropes, yelps and whimpers echoing all around them.  
“Oh fu- Thank you, Sir! Nggh I’m- I think I’m com- Daryl!! DARYL!!!”  
  
“Daryl!! I said come with me!!”   
Hands on his shoulders shook him from his sleep.   
“Jesus, shit, fuck-“ he hissed, jerking backwards on his elbows on the ground he’d grown accustomed to sleep on, preferring to leave the bed of his pickup to his older brother.  
“The hell are you doin’, Kid?” whispered Daryl, looking around before glancing almost imperceptibly at the bulge between his own legs. “Keep your little hands off me and let me sleep.”  
He swatted his hands, hoping that would be enough to discourage him.  
“Nonono, you have to come.”  
“I know.” he thought to himself, glaring at the Asian man.  
“Look, Morales is patrolling the other sector and he can’t see this, come with me quickly!” whispered Glenn, grabbing his wrist and trying to drag him in vain.   
Daryl sighed and got up on his feet; he was almost completely awake now anyway.   
He didn’t swat away Glenn’s hand, nor did the younger man let go of his wrist just yet.  
“It’s the thing you told us about the other night. I’m-at least I  _think_  it is. Just follow me, ok?”  
  
Kid sounded out of his damn mind.  
“The Chupacabra? Why are you tellin’ me?”  
“Because you’re the only one that would come for me.”  
“What?”  
“I said because you’re the only one that could with me.”   
The taller man blinked and looked down at the hand that was still gripping his wrist, causing Glenn to jerk it back immediately and free him from his grasp before going on with his explanation.  
“The others didn’t believe you. Well, Morales did, but…”  
Daryl nodded; it made sense not to tell Morales, he’d have shat his pants and made a fucking mess.  
The younger man sighed in relief seeing that he understood.  
“Take me there.” huffed Daryl, only to have Glenn blink in return. “Just- let’s just go wherever the hell you think you saw that stupid thing, get this over with.” he practically spat in his face.  
  
Neither of them spoke as Glenn brought him into the woods.   
Daryl kept his mouth sealed shut as flashes of the dream he’d briskly been woken up from kept creeping through his mind. As Glenn showed the way with a flashlight, he kept his crossbow ready just in case there actually  _was_  something; Kid seemed pretty convinced, too convinced for it to have just been a nightmare. How was it that he’d seen it anyway?  
“So you wanna tell me why we’ve been walkin’ all this way?”  
“I told you I’m pretty sure I saw your goat-sucking thingy.”  
“It’s called Chupacabra and it sure ain’t mine. The hell were you doin’ all the way here?”  
Glenn’s eyes widened as he stuttered. “I’m-I was peeing and-“  
“Jesus, Kid, why are you always peein’? Pretty young to have your bladder the size of a pea.”  
“I’m not  _always_  peeing!”  
  
Well, ok, he’d been stress-peeing again and had felt like having a walk and finding a place where he could jerk off in peace away from where he could be seen, but he couldn’t exactly tell Daryl that; especially considering it was him he was going to jerk off to, trying to get him out of his mind for the night.  
That would have made things so weird. Even weirder than they already were.  
They hadn’t spent much time together, but so far the times they’d been the closest had been him being saved by Daryl and he felt a mix of shame and- something else entirely.   
He was kind of embarrassed at his own helplessness in those situations and his need for someone stronger to swoop him up from shit creek, and the fact it was Daryl was really fucking awkward on the one hand and really fucking hot on the other.   
He sort of hated admitting that to himself, but perhaps he’d get him out of his mind sooner rather than later if he just accepted being attracted to him. It was worth a try.  
  
A rustling sound from a bush distracted him from his own thoughts, and he felt Daryl’s hand on his arm in a warning gesture. He parted his lips and looked at him before zeroing in on the bush, a small gasp escaping him as red eyes glowed through.  
He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed the stench of sulphur around them; Daryl had, as he’d quickened his pace, more ready than ever, without the younger man really noticing.  
The older man silently inhaled and held his breath as he released the arrow, hitting right between the glowing eyes. That seemed to augment the stench tenfold, and Glenn held himself against a tree, doubling over to retch on the ground. Great, right in front of Daryl. What the hell was wrong with him? Fuck.   
“Go back to camp, Kid.” rumbled warmly Daryl.   
“Why? How are you coming back?”  
“I can find my way back alright. Not a word of this to anyone.”  
The Asian man blinked and gaped his mouth, almost wording a protest.  
“Think they’re gonna believe the two of us?”   
Glenn breathed deeply in realization and softly shook his head before resigning himself to do as he was told, leaving Daryl to take care of yet another thing.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenn begins to learn how to fight. Daryl isn't too happy about whom he's sparring with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I'm sorry this took me a disgustingly long time to update. Tamer, but still immature chapter from an immature person.
> 
> First published on the writing subsection of yeunones.com on October 9, 2017.

Chapter Ten

 

Dale’s canoe was rocking gently on the water under the sun. Glenn adjusted his hat and lazily reached out to touch some of the ripples that were dying out now that he and Andrea had come to a stop.  
“You know,” she began, handing him a fishing rod “I’m surprised you haven’t asked Dale.”  
The younger man gave a small shrug. “I like Dale but I’m not really in the mood to be his hostage on a boat.” He let out an awkward chuckle, drying his hand on his jeans, as Andrea flashed a knowing smile and nodded. “I know what you mean. You have to understand Dale, though: his age, his wife being dead… he really just strives to be useful.”  
Glenn nodded, biting his lower lip and letting his eyes trail to the reflection of the sunlight in the water.  
“That’s not… really an age thing. I mean, not only.”  
“You are useful, Glenn.”  
He gaped his mouth, fixing his eyes on her. “I- I don’t exactly feel like an asset when I get my ass handed to me everyday.” They stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I keep getting into trouble other people get me out of, and I don’t even have a thing: I just help fetching stuff when I’m not washing it or burning it.”  
Andrea smiled with confused squint. “A thing? Glenn, I’ve seen you on our runs, we’d be lost without you. You know how to move around and you move fast. You’re more resourceful than you think, give yourself some more credit. A lot of us here have to just learn and adapt, can’t be helped.”  
The Asian man sighed and nodded, going over her words, then allowing himself a half-smile.  
“I just want people to count on me.”  
“Makes you just like Dale.” commented Andrea, making him chuckle.  
  


Ok, so fishing was definitely not going to be his thing, even though he had already expected Andrea to do most of the work that day, but could always learn to help at least and they did end up catching a few catfish and bass. He enjoyed more than he’d anticipated, even if it was just spending a tranquil morning mostly waiting. Andrea was a patient teacher and very laid-back, so it felt reassuring to have her as his first teacher, no one to breathe down his neck.  
He didn’t feel judged at all, not even when she chuckled at the mess he was making just learning how to cast – and spin casting did not seem as beginner-friendly as she’d made it out to be.  
He was kind of starting to get the hang of it though, and the weirdly quiet fun they had helped take his mind off certain things for a few hours, even though the rocking of the boat – gentle as it might be - was something more evident than he’d have thought, considering he wasn’t used to it at all.  
Venturing outside of his comfort zone made him feel a bit more grounded and confident, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t anything grand, and he was way more comfortable with the idea of helping fishing than hunting.  
He couldn’t shoot to save his life, and wasn’t so sure that he wanted to learn, although… well, considering their circumstances, that had kind of become a necessity, hadn’t it? The more people at camp could use a firearm, the better. Dale’s words resurfaced in his mind.  
“It’s not just about hunting. It’s about not being hunted. Not every man out there’s like Daryl.”

  
You know, the man that, in the short amount of time they’d spent at the quarry, had already got him out of trouble like a disgruntled knight with no shining armor a little too often.  
Daryl was the kind of man that looked like trouble – especially to someone like Glenn – rather than the quickest person to pull him out of shit creek. He’d have thought Shane a more likely candidate for some reason. Glenn knew he was perfectly capable of getting himself out of trouble, he’d had to do that so many freaking times living from one stolen car to another, the problem was he was the only one to know for sure he could be counted on. People at camp had only seen him getting his ass saved by someone else because he was in no position to help himself. The people he felt closest to – T-Dog, Dale, Andrea, Amy, Shane – all knew he stole cars on the side, and that wasn’t a good introduction. He wanted people to be able to count on him, to trust him.  
After all, the only time he’d driven any of the cars at camp was to pull out Daryl’s ride from the ditch while Shane and the others, being bigger and stronger than him, were pushing it out towards him.  
Yeah, that was stupid; they mostly went on runs with T-Dog’s van, so it was natural he’d be the one to drive it. It had nothing to do with trusting him or not, had it?  
Still wouldn’t hurt to learn to make himself more useful and earn more of their trust.

 

He took out his hat and nervously ran a hand through his hair as he approached Shane, who’d just been fumbling with something in the glove box of his car.  
“You got a moment?”  
“Nah man, getting ready for a date. Sorry.” he smiled, closing the door.  
Glenn blinked and pursed his lips for a moment before both men chuckled and Shane lightly punched his shoulder. “What’s up?”  
“Figured I gotta learn how to defend myself, you know, at least land a few punches.”  
The taller man put his hands on his hips and nodded. “And you’re asking me because?”  
“Your ears. And- your nose. They scream ‘boxer’ and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind teaching me at least the basics. Please?”  
Shane smirked, leaning against the jeep behind him, considering that request as he crossed his arms.  
“You know, boxing’s about mindset first. What brought this on?”  
The younger man slid his hands in his pockets, giving a small shrug.  
“I keep having someone else coming to my rescue and I wanna disrupt this stupid damsel-in-distress pattern I got going on. Can’t always have Daryl or someone else anyway saving my ass.”  
The older man lightly rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I got my ass saved by my colleagues plenty of times. It just happens. Sometimes you need rescue, instead of being the rescuer. But I will teach you, be your sparring partner.”  
Glenn had been listening intently, almost convincing himself that Shane would end up refusing because of his explanation, but his face lit up when his request was accepted and he instinctively high-fived the other man. “Dude, that’s awesome! Thanks! Can we start today?”  
Another smirk. “We can start now.”

 

The younger man removed his hat and placed it on the roof of the car, as a hand swiftly patted his back.  
“Gotta get the stance right first.” said Shane. “Watch me, mirror my movements. Alright, imagine a line on the ground right between your legs, going towards your opponent- or me, in this case. What’s your dominant hand?”  
“Uhm, right one.”  
“Right fist goes in the back, left at the front.” went on Shane, placing his left toe and his right back heel on his imaginary center line and holding up his fists, gesturing with his head for Glenn to do the same.  
The shorter man imitated his stance with some uncertainty. “Why does my dominant hand go in the back?”  
“That’s ‘cause you don’t wanna be a one-handed fighter. Plus your front hand’s more about distracting the opponent, blocking, or throwin’ weaker jabs – not strong punches.”  
Glenn nodded as he was gestured to stay like that and the taller man approached him to gently accommodate his knees into a slight bent and to spread his legs a bit wider than his shoulders.  
“Keep your elbows down, not sideways. Chin slightly down, backfoot heel slightly lifted. Yes, that’s it. Breathe through your nose and don’t clench your fists; they should be relaxed, like the rest of your body.”  
“Relaxed? In this position?” chuckled the younger man, widening his eyes. “Plus aren’t I supposed to be preparing to defend myself or attack my opponent?”  
Shane flashed another smirk, stepping back to evaluate his posture. “You are, but you’re just gonna hurt yourself if you’re not relaxed in your stance, you’ll tire quickly.”  
Glenn pursed his lips and gave a few small, uneasy nods, wondering how much he’d last despite knowing that he was just going to have to suck it up, he was the one that had asked to be taught. Lots to learn anyway. They hadn’t even got to footwork yet!

 

Daryl was gutting the fish together with Lori for lunch, biting the inside of his cheek a little.  
Lori glanced at the fish he was working on and attempted a smile. “You’re really good at that, look like you’ve done that often.”  
He cocked his eyebrows, shrugging. “Nah, not really.” He was hoping that would cease any further attempt at chit-chat.  
Thankfully, Lori seemed to get the hint, casually nodding and just glancing over every once in a while. At least at first, until her eyes went beyond where Carl and Sophia were playing and fell on Shane trying to teach Glenn the basic stance in boxing. She observed them with a fond smile before resuming her attempts at casual conversation.  
“Seems like the boys there are having more fun than us.”  
Daryl looked up from his catfish and followed the direction her head gestured towards, blinking.  
“Do you know how to box, Daryl?”  
“I know how to land a punch.” he grumbled. “Kid better learn too after the other day.”  
She looked at him puzzled for a second. “I think Ed’s learned his lesson.”  
“Assholes never learn, ma’am, and he ain’t the only problem.” scoffed Daryl with a smirk, knife slitting the belly of his fish with a decisive motion.  
He looked up to glance at the two men practicing. Kid looked like he’d never even thrown a single punch in his entire life and was kinda awkward, but he did seem like a quick study.  
Even Merle would’ve looked awkward sparring with Shane, who just exuded confidence and expertise.  
Clear difference between brawls and actual training, but he knew his brother wasn’t to be underestimated.

 

Daryl felt a certain relief seeing that someone was teaching Glenn how to fight. Maybe it was the effect of the Chupacabra incident, maybe just being around assholes. That’s how Daryl had learned, when just taking it had started to become too much even for him. He, too, became an asshole in a way.  
Now that the world seemed to have gone tits up, he couldn’t feel too bad about it, but at least he wasn’t a fucking time bomb like Merle, who was just snickering as he glanced up to Shane and Glenn, letting himself be distracted from cleaning his motorcycle with a cloth dipped in water every once in a while.  
His younger brother gave a small shake of his head and his eyes fell on the sparring duo again, finding himself furrowing his brow. Glenn seemed to be struggling with his footwork, his coordination failing him as he tried to imitate Shane’s movements.  
The taller man gave out a chuckle and seemed to give up for a moment, hands on his hips, before those hands went to position the Asian man’s legs as he wanted.  
“Someone’s touchy-feely.” thought Daryl to himself, looking down at his catfish all of a sudden as he finished cleaning it. It was somehow feeling hotter, and he became more aware of the sweat on his forehead. Lori was saying something but all he could hear was babble. Plus Glenn’s laughter, mixed with the sound of Shane snickering and saying something that sounded like a joke.  
He grit his teeth and sucked in a little air as he cut himself.  
Lori stopped in her tracks and gaped her mouth, concerned as she called his name.  
Glenn’s head snapped back, even though Daryl didn’t look up.  
“I’m fine, it ain’t deep or anythin’. Not like I’m gonna die.” he muttered, instantly regretting his tone despite just looking pissed as hell.  
The Asian man found himself taking a deep breath just before Shane poked his shoulder to make him turn around and resume their training.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grief-stricken Glenn turns to Daryl for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad, longer chapter than usual. Did I mention sad? I meant sad.
> 
> Merle alert for racist, homophobic, and sexist language.
> 
> First published on the writing subsection of yeunones.com on November 4, 2017.

Chapter Eleven

  
  
A month had gone by sooner than they’d realized, the days following each other with a sort of buzz, as if that was a camping trip that could end any sundown. Only it didn’t; they had no home to come back to, and the quarry remained the most convenient place to stay. Too soon to risk losing it by venturing somewhere else, the memory of how it had all gone down too fresh for them not to see the enclosed space of buildings as more of a trap than anything else. They risked enough by going on their runs and having to avoid being cornered by geeks. They had settled into their routine hoping it would be temporary, hoping something would happen to revert the world to the state in which they used to know it – clinging to that hope mainly to go on without losing it, because they  _did_  know that just wasn’t going to happen.   
  
  
Shane had said it best the very first day. “This is no camping trip; it’s life as it is for now.” Those words kept echoing in Glenn’s head. That was really it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t really going to get the chance for yet another apologetic call, or a surprise visit to his family with his tail between his legs before he’d bolt again.   
There wasn’t going to be the chance for forgiveness and shelter for which he’d kept wishing.   
They were gone. His life as he knew it was gone. That was his life now, and he wasn’t doing too bad at navigating it. He was becoming someone the others felt they could rely on. They even let him drive sometimes – that was a huge step for him, especially since they knew what he used to do to go on.  
He was finding himself in a way as he learned to help others, as he found out what he was good at and for which he could use his skills for the benefit of all. Gradually, he’d become his true self again, someone who put others first. Someone who lived for others. Others that were sort of becoming a new family.   
  
  
Surely not all people saw things that way, but that’s where he stood. He’d felt more fulfilled there in the uncertainty of their camp than in the life he’d been forced to leave, and he liked most of the people that had found themselves stuck with each other at the quarry.  
The ones he didn’t like, Ed and Merle, weren’t enough of a problem for him to feel out of place, for him to feel like he’d better get out and find somewhere else where he could belong. The Dixon brothers mostly kept themselves to themselves while still doing their part, not really bonding with anyone else in particular. Just the way they were, and as long as they contributed that was fine.   
Glenn felt somewhat relieved by that distance they kept. It was obvious that Merle looked down on him for… well, pretty much everything. Being Asian, looking weak, not exactly being the macho type… whatever his problem was, it was  _there_  and he didn’t hide it – even tried to keep his younger brother away from Glenn any chance he had. Yet he had no problem hunting with T-Dog and Morales for some strange reason. Did Merle seriously look down on him so much that he had to act like he was infectious or something?   
Daryl was not as bad as his brother, but he seemed to be… buying into that. Avoiding Glenn. Not even looking him in the eye whenever Glenn asked him something. He would every now and then catch Daryl watching him with a strange expression, sometimes hollow, sometimes wary. Merle’s stares were far more suspicious and openly hostile, even in his bizarre amusement. Whatever the fuck had he done?   
  
  
“What do you think we should do this weekend?” asked Amy casually, folding the clothes that had just finished drying in the sun, snapping him out of his train of thoughts. That was such a nonchalant thing to say, as if their life stuck together was perfectly normal. Well, it  _was_  their new normal anyway, and Amy was at least adapting much better than most people around her gave her credit for.   
“Dunno, fish? Like every other weekend. Why?” He’d come off a little cranky, as he often could when his thoughts were interrupted.   
Amy gave a soft roll of her eyes and a small shake of her head. “We’ve been here a month, could use to celebrate a little.” She always loved parties, and that was something that could benefit everyone. Help them settle more into that new sense of reality, so that they could actually build something.   
Glenn looked up at her confused, knitting his brows. “What’d you have in mind?”  
She pursed her lips pensively, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just something that would bring us all together.”   
The young man smirked, looking down at his feet. “You mean like surviving?”  
  
  
Amy took a deep breath, giving a few nods. “Guess so. Guess it’d be nice to do more than just surviving and live a little.” She shrugged softly. The last time she had something significant to celebrate was her birthday, and Andrea wasn’t there – yet again. She remembered calling her on the phone, all excited at first, till things escalated into a full-blown fight because Andrea was always too busy for her. Way to ruin her day.  
“Must be hard for you to go long without a party.” blurted out Glenn, his eyebrows rising.  
She tilted her head, furrowing her brow. “I’m trying to do something nice here, Glenn.”  
He blinked rapidly, realizing he was coming across as a bigger jerk than he could handle. “I don’t- I just wouldn’t rock the boat. We’re not all a big happy family.”  
“Don’t you think we could be?” she asked hopeful, her tone of voice causing him to look up at her and gape his mouth a little as he thought of an answer.  
“We could have, if it wasn’t for me.”   
  
  
She set aside the shirt she was folding, her lips parted in irked confusion. “What are you talking about?”  
“The Dixons. I made sure they stayed, but they’re not- they’re useful, but they sure aren’t family. Doubt they’re ever gonna be. They clearly don’t wanna spend more time with us than they have to. That’s a boat I don’t wanna rock.” He meant it in more ways than one, even though Amy had no way of knowing that.  
Had she? Nah, she wasn’t all-seeing like Dale. Did Dale seriously understand the stupid attraction Glenn felt for Daryl? Because it seemed like he’d noticed it. Sometimes begrudgingly so, other times he just seemed happy Glenn had found something to distract him from the doom and gloom of the new world order.   
He just wasn’t too glad that “something” was Daryl of all people. The Dixons hadn’t grown on him, or anyone else. Why would they? Especially considering how much of a racist, sexist prick Merle was.  
Amy shrugged softly. “Ok, so they’re a couple of assholes. But Ed’s an asshole too-”  
“Shhh, don’t let him hear you…” He gestured with his palms down so that she’d keep it down.   
“Or what? He’s gonna beat me too?”   
Glenn sighed and bit his bottom lip, clenching his fists on his knees. “I can’t protect you, Amy.” he murmured. “Don’t do this to me. Not now.”   
  
  
Amy widened her eyes and reached out her hand, wrapping it around his fist, feeling it relax a little under her touch. “I’m sorry... I’ll work something out.”  
Glenn was a bit saddened that she was going to do it herself now, but it was good that she was taking responsibility for something. Not just because some other people still thought of her as a spoiled brat, but mainly for herself. Despite their tensions, she looked at Andrea like some sort of unattainable model, and Dale’s help wasn’t that well received; he was no match for their dad, never would be for her.  
Glenn wondered if his own younger sister had ever seen him in any similar light to how Amy saw Andrea. Eh… probably not. Surely not after he’d dropped out of college and started living like a rat. Was she ashamed of him? Had he disappointed her? He dared not delve into the way his family must have come to consider him; he wasn’t going to disappoint Amy and the rest of his new family too.   
  
  
Amy took it upon herself to ask the Dixon brothers while Glenn was on another run with the others.   
She knew Glenn might get pissed, but it was better to just ask the damn question and find out once and for all; if the answer was going to be a no, Glenn would be right anyway, nothing to lose. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all, right?   
She approached the two brothers while they were smoking, leaning against a couple of trees after Lori had kindly reminded them there were children around that could use not breathing second hand smoke.  
“Sugartits at ten o’clock.” snickered Merle, earning a somewhat hostile glance from his younger brother.  
“What you goin’ into the woods alone for, Blondie? Ain’t you afraid of wolves?”  
“I thought wolves were no longer around in this state.” she answered flatly.  
Daryl smirked and gave a few slow nods as his brother pursed his lips.   
“We wanted to have a party this weekend and I was hoping you’d be in.”  
Both brothers just stared at her, as if that interaction was going to just stop there.  
  
  
The younger woman gave a soft shrug. “It’s just Glenn and I that know about this right now, haven’t talked to the others, so I can just drop this if you say no. Just asking.”  
“What if we say yes?” asked Daryl, his brother tilting his head at him and parting his lips.  
“Yeah, Blondie, what do we get?” followed Merle.  
She looked straight into Daryl’s eyes as she answered. “Trust.” She shrugged again, the hint of a smile on her face.   
Merle squinted at her, taking a long puff.   
Daryl stared at her for a moment before putting out his cigarette on the ground, nodding. “Deal.”   
The oldest Dixon cocked his eyebrows, faking a smile as the young girl nodded back and walked away all satisfied she’d gotten what she wanted. “Wanna tell me who you’re really doin’ this for?” he muttered to Daryl.  
  
  
“The hell you mean?” shot Daryl knitting his brows and clenching his jaw.   
The older man rolled his eyes. “You know. Tits here or the Asian?”   
“The ‘ _Asian_ ’?”  
Merle huffed with a roll of his eyes. “Only one here, brother. That pansy ass chink. Thought you’d just taken pity on that sorry yellow ass, hope you don’t got somethin’ to tell me.”  
Daryl furrowed his brow, facing his brother with clenched fists. “I ain’t gotta tell you  _shit_.” he spat, red in the face. That wasn’t even the first time Merle had hinted at that. Might as well stop asking if he wasn’t going to listen anyway.     
Merle’s eyebrows shot up. “Good.” he nodded, lips pursing once again “Too many goddamn fags in the world already. Hell, too many even here at this fuckin’ camp.”  
  
  
The younger man’s nostrils flared. “You keep talkin’ shit. Sun’s gotten to you.” he scoffed, shaking his head.   
Merle laughed right in his face, crossing his arms. “I ain’t blind, brother. Chink looks at you like you’re water in a desert, and that nigger looks at him the same way. Sickenin’, I tell ya.”  
His younger brother let out a wheezing, incredulous snicker that died out as he realized just how serious Merle was. “Shut the fuck up. You’re just bored outta your damn mind. Ain’t gon’ listen to no more of this bullshit. Keep jerkin’ off to your romance novel without me.” He said the last part over his shoulder as he began to walk away, leaving Merle to stare at him puzzled, exhaling sharply as he threw his own cigarette on the ground and stomped on it with a roll of his eyes.

  
There was no way in hell Glenn looked at him that way. Kid was just fucking awkward. The black guy sure did seem fond of him, but they were just friends, weren’t they? Didn’t seem to be anything more.  
Strange Merle hadn’t said a word about Shane, but then again Rambo seemed more into women. One woman in particular. Not that he gave a flying fuck. What the hell.   
With everything that was going on, his brother still found time for those stupid games. How the fuck could he be that bored? It was like the world going to shit was the best thing to happen to him, stripping away a whole lot of rules that he never could stand anyway, and he was like a kid that just what he wanted and then started wanting more, finding it even if that meant making it up. Fucking asshole. Family, but still the biggest jerk in sight.  
But that world was meant for people like him, not softer souls like Glenn.   
  


Glenn was doing his best to give in to Amy’s wishes, getting whatever food he could find that would suit the occasion even marginally during their supply run.   
“We’re taking chips and canned pudding now?” chuckled Jacqui, earning a little smack on her arm from Andrea, who interjected “Let him, some of us still get our periods.”   
The other woman gaped her mouth and widened her eyes in a mock expression of shock before erupting in a hearty laughter with her blonde friend, echoed by T-Dog’s more timid chuckle that had followed a chill.  
The younger man was a little too distracted to participate. “Amy would like us to have a little party this weekend, celebrate our first month together.”  
His three companions exchanged a quick look, causing him to knit his brows before raising them in embarrassed surprise. “The first month we’re  _all_ together. At the quarry?”  
He cast his gaze down, his voice lower and steadier. “Gotta make the best of things after all.”

  
  
Andrea nodded decisively, the others flashing an understanding smile. “Makes sense. I’m sure the kids could use a little distraction too. What does Shane think?”  
“Uh… we haven’t really talked to Shane about it yet…”  
T-Dog clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well, I’m sure he ain’t gonna have nothing against a little fun. Few cans of pudding never killed anyone.”   
“Unless thrown hard.”  
Everyone turned to stare with narrowed eyes at Glenn, who’d just spoken in such a flat tone and with such a vacant expression that they couldn’t really tell if he’d meant it as a joke or had just casually blurted things out. Jacqui softly rolled her eyes, stroking his shoulder. “Oh, Glenn – what would we be without you…”  
Andrea and T-Dog grinned at each other, laughing at the younger man’s confusion. 

  
  
There was one thing that made Glenn come back to camp slightly happier than he’d left, and that was remembering Candice mentioning her love of vanilla and thus making sure to get her that flavour of pudding. He wasn’t sure she’d been all that coherent while stating that, and it might have been just a random thing to say, but it somehow made him feel like he’d done something right.  
She’d been a little sick in the past few days, so he got him one for that day to cheer her up and one he’d give her at the party. His cheerful grin died down a little when he was told she hadn’t really left her tent, and he went inside with a shiver down his spine, despite trying to keep his smile on his face.  
He wasn’t even sure she was awake at first, because her eyes were closed and her breath really slow, so he could hardly see her chest heaving. 

  
  
She shuffled a little, and blinked a few times trying to bring him into focus. “… Glenn?” she asked, after a seemingly infinite amount of time, causing him to gulp. That was the first time she’d called him with his name instead of mistaking him for her own son.   
He nodded and forced himself to say yes, his voice a little too raspy but still capable of melting her into a tired smile.   
“I’ve brought you something. You said you liked vanilla, right?” He took a deep breath and showed her the can he’d kept hidden behind his back, her face lighting up before getting serious again as she gestured him to sit beside her. He tried his best not to freak out despite the knot in his throat and obliged, sitting criss-cross next to her. “I’m so stupid, I didn’t get you a spoon!” he exclaimed, slapping his forehead.   
The elderly woman rested her hand on his knee, gently shaking her head. “Just stay with me. It’s been such a long time.” She sighed heavily, and Glenn didn’t understand if she was lucid or she was slipping in her confusion again, thinking he was someone else.

  
  
“How’s school?” she asked in a huffed breath. Ok, so she wasn’t lucid; she thought he was her son again. Best to play along.   
Glenn swallowed hard and pressed his lips together for a moment before nodding.  
“It’s-uh, it’s going well.”  
“When are you graduating?”  
“Soon. I’m graduating soon…” His voice broke a little and he blinked, hoping that would make his eyes stop watering. He attempted a smile and gently lay his hand on top of the one she kept on her knee. She was colder than he’d expected, and that caused him to freeze with a slight quiver to his lips.  
Her eyes started watering as well as she tightened her grip, alarming him. “I’m so sorry I’m not going to see that, darling.” she breathed out.

  
  
Glenn’s eyes sprang open, tearing up in realization. He held her hand in his, trying to soothe her.  
“It’s ok, Mom.” His free hand went up to his lips, and he bit his curled finger to keep himself from sobbing.  
“It’s ok…” he nodded softly, closing his eyes, trying to reassure himself as well as her.   
She gave a half-smile and rested her head closer to him, visibly finding it harder to just go on breathing.  
“I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long.” sobbed Glenn loudly, clinging to her. “I’m sorry I was only back to ask you something… I’ve missed you so much. I’m sorry… Can you… can you forgive me?”  
Candice opened her eyes to look up at him with a soft smile, nodding gently. “Of course I can.” she mustered after a moment, growing colder by the second. “I love you.”  
  


Trembling, he smiled and let his tears flow freely as he bent down to press his lips on her forehead.  
“I love you too, Mom.” That was the last thing she’d hear, lighting up just before she closed her eyes for the last time, prompting Glenn to shake violently in his sobs and cover his mouth with his hand.   
He threw his hat on the ground, bursting out crying slumping his body. “I just wanted to go back home!” he yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his free hand into a fist.   
“I just wanted to go back home…” He was trembling, and had to force himself to breathe deeply to stop hyperventilating.   
Letting out a huff, he zipped her up in her sleeping bag, hobbling out the tent. 

  
  
T-Dog was talking to a couple of elderly men, when he made eye contact with him and gaped his mouth in concern. “What happened? Did she-“  
“Get Daryl.” mumbled Glenn, trembling. “Just get Daryl. Tell him we need his truck.” His voice grew a little steadier, and he took a few more deep breaths to try to stop shaking.  
A few moments later, T-Dog was back with a disgruntled Daryl. “What’d you need my truck for?” he asked briskly, his expression softening as he saw Glenn in that state.   
“What’s goin’ on?”  
The younger man ran a hand over his own face and hair, coming closer so that he could hear him whisper.  
“A woman died and I gotta get her out of here before… before the others see and-“  
“You know you ain’t drivin’ my truck like that, right?” interrupted Daryl, his arms crossed.

  
  
Glenn’s eyes shot up, unsure if that meant he wasn’t going to help or he was going to get her out himself.  
Daryl replied with a sigh. “I’ll do it. Where is she?”  
“She’s just- she’s just in that tent…” breathed out Glenn, scratching his head as T-Dog patted his shoulder.  
“I’ll show you…” He led a reluctant Daryl in the tent where Candice lay dead inside her closed up sleeping bag.   
“Why’d you close that up?” asked the older man “Gonna be a lot more evident this way, this is some bright yellow shit.”   
“I just had to… not…  _see_  her anymore. Can we please just get her out of here?”   
Daryl sighed again and gave a couple of nods, before instructing Glenn to help him lift the body so they could carry it outside and load it on the bed of the truck, ignoring the stares from those that noticed what they were doing. T-Dog gestured the others not to ask anything, and most followed suit.

  
  
Glenn let out a huff as he plopped on the passenger’s seat, earning a glare from the blond man.  
“What you doin’, Kid? I said I’d do it.”  
“I’m coming with you.” he muttered, fastening his seatbelt with tears still streaking his face.   
“You don’t trust me or somethin’? What do you want me to do with a dead old woman’s body?”  
Now it was the younger man’s turn to glare, his head snapping towards him. “I said I’m coming with you.”  
The other man took a deep breath and started the car, driving back to the ditch where the truck had remained stuck the day they’d made it to the quarry.   
“I’m sorry for your loss.” he mumbled, glancing at Glenn, who was still shaken in his silence and could just swallow and nod.   
“Look, I can get her myself. She was a tiny lady.” he continued, getting out of the car as the young man kept staring in front of him without uttering a word, his hands balled up into fists on his knees. Daryl lifted the sleeping bag onto his shoulder to roll it down into the ditch. He thought he felt a few twitches, but that was normal with freshly dead bodies, so he didn’t dwell on it – preferring to get back to the driver’s seat as soon as he was done.   
  
  
As he began to drive back, he opened his mouth to start saying something as Glenn interjected him with a “Thank you.”   
He glanced at him with the briefest hint of a half-smile as they made eye contact. “No problem.”  
They remained silent for a few minutes, neither of them really knowing what to say, or even if they should say anything at all. “This is the first death at camp.” realized Glenn, his voice still raspy from crying leading him to clear his throat.   
“Ain’t the last.” answered Daryl a little too casually. If that was an attempt to somehow comfort the other man, that wasn’t working. At all.  
“Got too many old people to function.” he continued. Damage was done anyway, wasn’t it?  
“Why the fuck would you say something like that right now? I’m getting out of this car.”  
“Look, Kid, life’s a bitch – you don’t gotta be one too.” It hit him how that was something his Pop used to say all the time to both Merle and himself whenever any of them had complaints.   
That did  _not_  have the same effect on Glenn; just wasn’t how he functioned.   
Knitting his brows and gritting his teeth, he was starting to tear up and tremble again, this time with grieving rage. “Stop this fucking truck, I’m getting out!” 

  
  
The older man scoffed, hitting the brakes. “You ain’t getting’ out, ‘cause if you do you’re just gonna crawl back to that sleepin’ bag and bawl your eyes out. It’s  _done_. She’s gone.  _You_ ’re still here.”  
Glenn furrowed his brow and blinked rapidly, staring down at Daryl’s lips as silence between them resumed, the blond’s eyes burning through his face.  
“You don’t have to be a dick…” muttered the younger man under his breath.   
“It  _works_.” shot back the other, before his tone softened a bit. “Let’s just go home, for fuck’s sake.”  
Glenn’s eyebrows rose a little; that was the first time he’d heard the other referring to the quarry as “home” – or anything that sounded even remotely positive. He kept staring at him for a while, earning a few increasingly distressed glances from him.  
“Somethin’ wrong?”  
“… Thank you.”   
Daryl was about to tell him that he’d thanked him already, when he decided to just drop it and nod, biting his bottom lip while Glenn’s expression relaxed into a slight smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it too soon for a lovers' quarrel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First published on the writing subsection of yeunones.com on December 25, 2017.

Chapter Twelve

  
  
“Maybe we should hold a funeral.” tried Glenn, rubbing his eyes to dry any remnant of tears. They were almost back, and he’d done enough crying for the day. Let his heart get the best of him.   
Daryl scoffed. “Thought you didn’t want the others to know.”  
“No, I didn’t want them to  _see_  her. They’re gonna know of course. I mean, people don’t just disappear.” replied the young man with a slight roll of his eyes. He was feeling better. More in control, at least. Not as much of a mess as when… when it’d happened.  
“Don’t they now?” was a smirk. Kid had no idea; probably grown up in a happy little bubble of nonsense. People disappeared all the time. Walked out on other people. Croaked on their own. Shit happened.  
Knitting his brows, Glenn turned to face the blond man with something of a huff.   
“T-Dog’s probably told already.”  
Glenn was met with a nod and pursed lips. That was as good of a sign of agreement as he could expect from any of the Dixon brothers – neither showing too much conviction at anything other people said.  
  
  
“Did anyone even know her like that?” asked the older man.   
Glenn thought about it for a second. He wasn’t really sure what the others’ relationship to Candice was, especially given her condition and the fact she wasn’t the only elderly at camp that had troubles with her lucidity. Maybe Daryl was right: maybe there  _were_  too many old people for that place to be as functional as it could be. But such a starkly utilitarian view of the world implied a lack of empathy that was just inconceivable and frankly dehumanizing for the young man. Humanity had been changing enough already. Had changed dramatically. The world was no longer the same, that was for sure, but that didn’t mean that the very core of humanity had to be destroyed. That would be the end of days. Reanimated corpses preying on the living were nothing in comparison to what the loss of empathy would entail.   
  
  
“I did.”   
His response earned a cocked eyebrow from Daryl.   
“I knew her enough.” he explained “T-Dog too. More than me, in fact. The others… she had friends among the older people rescued by T-Dog. Either that or she’d made them coming here. Point is closure’s important.” Glenn couldn’t think of leaving her like that, without a ceremony to at least celebrate her memory. Then again, what memory did they have really? That wasn’t the point, was it? It was just… she was just a person. They couldn’t leave their people like that. Daryl was right, that wasn’t going to be the only death at camp. Glenn knew he couldn’t count on it being the last, he knew that’d be terribly naïve; he wasn’t stupid. But still, were they just going to let their own people rot without a ceremony? Didn’t that kind of thing mean anything anymore? It was too soon for him to accept that kind of development.  
“She was one of us, she deserves a funeral.”   
  
  
“Do what you want, Kid. She ain’t my problem no more. Just ask Shane and be done with it.”  
Glenn blinked in slight confusion. “Why Shane?”  
“Seems to be the boss of y’all.” replied Daryl with a shrug, not even bothering to look back at him.  
The other man smirked and shook his head. “I don’t think we have that kind of thing anymore.”  
That phrase seemed to really entertain his companion.   
“You seemed so damn smart and then you talk shit like that. Never gonna figure you out.” snickered Daryl, before he reverted to a more serious tone. “There’s always gonna be someone in charge, and if there ain’t, someone’s gonna rise to power one way or the other. People kill each other over that shit. What planet you been livin’ on?”   
Kid really wasn’t cut out for that world. Innocent people weren’t. It was going to be either survival of the fittest or of the most cunning – or both. He had to figure out that shit for himself as soon as possible if he wanted to stay alive, if he wanted to have any chance at all.  
  
  
Glenn furrowed his brow at how much he felt patronized by the older man. Yes, he was young, but that didn’t mean he looked at the world through rose-colored glasses. He just didn’t think being all doom and gloom was going to be of any help, considering their already bleak circumstances. He couldn’t let certain things break his spirit: that’d be worse than any death.  
“Same as yours, I just think it’s stupid to be so negative: that’s no way to live.”  
“Telling it like it is ain’t being negative.”  
“That’s not what you’re doing though. You just think it’s gonna be easier for you if you already see the worst in everyone and everything, ‘cause that means no bad surprises for you. No disappointment. No suffering.”   
Glenn’s tone was tentative, yet firmer than what he could have expected. Grief was making him stern, at least momentarily. More daring. He needed to get those things off his chest, and they weren’t necessarily a hundred percent directed at Daryl: it was his opinion, and it was going to be heard for once, no matter how badly the other man was going to respond.  
  
  
Daryl’s mouth gaped, and he stopped the truck in the middle of the road, even if they weren’t that far from camp and had almost gotten back anyway.   
“How’s being clueless workin’ for your sufferin’?” he spat “’Cause one of us has been cryin’ like a little bitch over someone he didn’t even know that well, and that ain’t me. And now you’re tellin’ me that… that being  _realistic_  is just…” He broke into a brief, incredulous laughter, face flushed “… is just me being  _afraid_?”  
“That’s an interesting choice of words. But yeah, that’s what I think, if you wanna call brooding pessimism ‘being realistic’.” Ok, maybe his emotions were emboldening him too much, but he didn’t care; it was out, it had to be, he wasn’t going to take it all back. Why should he? He’d simply stated the truth, better own it.  
“Fuck. You. I’ll tell ya what  _I_  think-“  
“Don’t you always?”  
“Keep that mouth shut while I’m talkin’, Kid. What I think is, it’s not that you didn’t want the others to see that fuckin’ crone. That was no charity. That was  _you_  not wantin’ to see that hag no more. Not wantin’ to face reality. Just put her in a trash bag and take her away. Out of sight, out of mind. ‘Cause you can’t take reality. You’d rather live in Dreamland, or Wonderland, or wherever you left your goddamn brain. Until you die for bein’ stupid. Go ahead. Be stupid.  _Die_. But don’t think for a second I’ll be sorry for you, ‘cause you’ll just have asked for it. Ain’t got no pity for damn fools like you.”  
  
  
Glenn’s chest had been heaving and sinking as the other man had been getting redder and redder in the face and gesticulating like a maniac, pointing his finger at him, banging his hand on the steering wheel.  
Still, he’d maintained a serious expression; he was angry, but there was an underlying fear that the blond was right all along. That he saw things too innocently to last in that world, let alone help other survive with him. That, like a child, he clung to things that made him feel better, because he couldn’t handle anything else. Everything else was too much for him, wasn’t it? What was he going to do?   
“Why would you be sorry?” he mumbled, resuming speaking before Daryl could break his own shocked silence with a retort “Is there  _anyone_  that you’d pity? I doubt even your own brother would get any compassion from you. Why didn’t you let me fall in the fire then? That would’ve been me dying for being stupid. Could’ve let me, but you didn’t. What was that?”  
Daryl blinked rapidly, frowning. “It was a reflex-“  
“You’re  _good_.  _People_  are good. Plenty are, plenty more can be. Just ‘cause things suck, doesn’t mean we have to suck too. I don’t wanna see the worst in everyone and everything; that’s your thing if you wanna keep at it, that’s probably what’s gonna make you last in this world, but I’d rather die than let the bad get to me, let goodness and hope rot too. Doesn’t make me stupid, it makes me  _human_.”   
  
  
Daryl stared at him in silence for almost a full minute, neither of them breaking eye contact. Glenn’s sorrow had transformed into anger, pride, and honestly fearful frustration, as if he’d opened some kind of Pandora’s vase and chosen the least sympathetic person at camp as witness. The older man’s anger had subsided into some kind of defeated confusion, much to Glenn’s surprise – although he wasn’t really sure that was something for which to pat himself on the back.  
“That’s what you want?” murmured Daryl, looking for confirmation after a seemingly endless pause, the vein in his temple not throbbing as much anymore.   
Glenn slowly nodded. “I wanna live, Daryl, just as much as you do; I just wanna live differently. Like myself. If that’s a stupid mistake, so be it. If that’s gonna get me killed faster, at least I’ll have lived for something.”  
It was Daryl’s turn to nod; it was more out of sincere understanding than approval – he couldn’t really approve of anything he’d just been told, it was beyond anything he could agree with, way beyond anything he could ever recall experiencing. Deep down, however, he respected the fact that Glenn had opened himself that way with him, without fear or restraint. He’d been bold, straightforward – perhaps even too much, but he’d been brave in a way. Or stupid. Maybe both. But that was just Glenn.   
  
  
“Live then.” he shrugged. “Live, and take responsibility.”   
The younger man looked away for a second, gathering his thoughts. “I know you see me as a child or something-“  
Daryl rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking out the window, pressing his lips together. “You ain’t a child anymore, that’s the point.”   
Glenn drew his eyebrows together, eyes fixing again on the driver. “That’s on me though, you don’t have to care so much.”  
“You think I care?” scoffed the other, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.  
“I  _know_  you do. Otherwise…”  
“Otherwise I’d have let you fall in that damn fire? You sure like talkin’ about that.”  
“No, otherwise you wouldn’t have argued with me: you’d have just let me carry on with whatever foolishness you see in me.” was a calmer comment.     
  
  
The blond man slowly turned to face him. “What if I do?”   
“… what?”  
“What if I care?” insisted Daryl with a piercing stare, challenging him to respond.  
Glenn’s lips parted, attracting the other’s attention. “I don’t… I don’t know…”   
“You  _‘don’t know’_?” was uttered harshly and crowned with a bitter snicker.  
“I just- why would you care? You don’t seem to be the kind… who cares. About anything. Or anyone. I mean, other than yourself. Your brother.”  
“So far I’ve saved you from yourself, from that royal asshole Ed, from a fuckin’ Chupacabra. I brought your dearest lil’ old lady out here ‘cause you just couldn’t deal with it – like that’s anything new. Not only that, but I help your group every. Single. Goddamn. Day. Keep my brother from pullin’ stunts. Ain’t killed no one, ain’t stolen nothin’. Yet I still get that shit, like I’m the bad one. What do I gotta do? You’re right. It  _is_  easier for me to see the worst. That’s all there is.”  
  
  
“No, I’m- I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was just… talking about your attitude. You’ve done a lot already, saved my ass and all on multiple occasions and I just run my mouth like a-“ he paused to sigh “… like a stupid child. So much for wanting to see the good in people. I shouldn’t have judged you, sorry I was an idiot.” A slight blush came to his cheeks; he knew what he’d said was true and made sense, but it still seemed like rambling, and thus he wasn’t sure his point had come across.  
“No.” was Daryl’s petrifying reply, causing Glenn’s eyes to shoot back up at him after he’d lowered his gaze in embarrassment.  
“What do you mean ‘no’?” He wasn’t going to forgive him? He was just going to resent him like that?  
“I mean that was smart of you. Don’t trust me, don’t trust my brother; we’re just two assholes lookin’ after themselves. It’s just that someone else reaps the fruits too.”  
The young man shook his head, refusing to let himself be convinced that easily. That was just another wall Daryl was trying to put up. That just didn’t sound right. It made no sense. Why save him? He could understand how hunting for the group, how contributing meant they earned shelter, they didn’t have to be on the road, benefited from the protection of the group and all… but Glenn? Why keep saving him? Why become so incensed at his choices?   
“You don’t have to say that. I care about you too.” murmured the shorter man, finding Daryl’s surprised gaze, his own face on fire.   
  
  
The taller man licked his lips before giving a light shake of his head. “You care about everyone, Kid.”   
“It’s different for you.” Insisted Glenn, hoping his sincerity would become apparent.  
“Why?”   
“Because I…”  
Daryl raised his eyebrows, inviting him to go on and crossing his arms more tightly in front of his chest.  
“Because I’m grateful to you. I mean, there are other people at camp I’m thankful to, but not- not for the specific things for which I’m thankful to you. Am I making any sense?” he asked slumping his shoulders with a bashful smile.   
“I get it. Really. But you and I owe each other nothin’. Not gratitude, nor anythin’ else. We just share a secret, that’s all.”  
“A secret?” Glenn’s eyes widened comically. He really did look like a confused little kid.  
“… The Chupacabra.” was the other’s dry reply as he looked at his passenger like he was the dumbest person in the world, much to his own amusement.  
  
  
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. I mean, who’d believe us, right? That was some crazy shit. Do you think there could be others lurking around?” asked Glenn with a nervous smile, terrified at the prospect.  
“I think we got enough on our plate. That and, unless frightened or provoked, they should only go after livestock. Strange it was ‘round here. Maybe it was after some animals in the woods. Means nearby farms could’ve lost their animals.”  
“To geeks?” asked Glenn in shock; until that moment, he’d never really contemplated the idea that geeks could go after animals too. He thought they just preyed on living humans and that was it – he’d never seen anyone do otherwise, at least. But the fact they could be after living animals too complicated things and meant an important food source for his group could end up being compromised.   
“Can’t know for sure, but it sure means we gotta keep our eyes open. The day we feel too safe is the day we die in our sleep – if we’re lucky.”   
Glenn’s somewhat frightful nod prompted him to attempt to lighten the mood. “Don’t wanna think about no goatsuckers while I’m starvin’.” Daryl then turned the key to start the car again and finally make it back to the quarry.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took my eons to finish this as I wrote countless versions of this chapter, my apologies. I'll admit the final one was prompted by my grandmother's death. No warnings, no depressing chapter (hopefully). I wanted to allow Glenn to take a beat to allow himself to grieve, and to find tacit support from one he wouldn't have expected. 
> 
> This chapter concludes the "act" of Candice's death, and I hope it was an apt conclusion. It was important for me to insert that original character as a reminder of Glenn's mother. The next chapters should focus more on action and the story should progress moving forward in time as well (even though I'll still be touching key events from season one), but I do want to continue exploring Glenn's background in a way, to shape the family he was never given in the show and to shape him through it.

 

Chapter Thirteen

  
  
Glenn wasn’t sure how to feel how to feel about that kind of loss. Candice had been the first one of the survivors at the quarry to go. Thankfully she hadn't been torn to pieces by geeks or anything: it had been a far more tranquil, serene death. Didn't even appear to have suffered much, or at least that was what Glenn clung to; might as well, since it was as if he had no more tears to cry. He was ashamed enough of those he had shed already. Couldn't be more different from Daryl, could he?  
Of course T-Dog had told. Couldn't blame him. At least something was out the way. An almost eerie numbness took over Glenn for the rest of that day. Comments were like water off a duck's back. He only smiled awkwardly as his back was patted, and pretty much kept to himself as much as possible.   
What they'd gotten for the little party Amy had wanted was used for a rather awkward goodbye dinner: most people there didn't really know Candice on a personal level, but still wanted to be respectful and frankly also cling to a semblance of civility (or at least try). For the time being they were safe from geeks at the quarry, but death of course still found its way. No camping trip...   
He could tell that Shane, like many others there, was more concerned with on after the relief over that death not causing any panic. Candice was old and had died of natural causes. That was all. That night they all (well, most of them anyway) took a beat for that reminder of the transience of life, and that was it.   
It wasn't so easy for the only Asian man at camp though for some reason. He couldn't sleep and thus volunteered to substitute T-Dog at keeping watch. All he could think about was Candice's floral dress and how disturbingly similar to his own mother's it looked. Had his mom also ended up in a similar group? Would she also be so easily forgotten by those who'd taken her to safety?  
  
A noise startled him away from that train of thought and he quickly turned around, his whole body tensing up. It was Daryl, climbing up to the roof of the RV where Glenn was supposed to be on the lookout. The younger man let out a sigh of relief and mild annoyance at once.  
"Some surveillance." was the blond's dry comment, going in Glenn's ear and out the other in an instant as the youth turned away. "What are you doing up here?" he muttered almost inaudibly.   
Daryl took a half-empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, eyes fixed on the other man. "Smokin'." he replied in the flattest tone possible, prompting a scoff from Glenn. "Second-hand smoke, can't wait." The older man just shrugged, holding Glenn's gaze before passing him the cigarette.   
"I don't..." Glenn stared at it for a moment. Wasn't his first one, no. He'd tried a few years before; peer pressure and all. Having no money to afford that vice had kept him from becoming a habitual smoker. Daryl was obviously one himself and, now that the world (or country at the very least) had gone to shit, cigarettes must have become some sort of luxury good - mustn't they? Yet Daryl was giving him one like he couldn't care less.  
What the hell. "Thanks, I guess." was mumbled with a shrug.   
The blond remained standing as he lit himself another cigarette. Didn't even look a Glenn when the Asian man took a puff and coughed; it had been a long time. Glenn said nothing as the other man snickered, and instead looked into the distance for a while. Both of them silent. The air still. The night sky seemingly starless.  
  
Couldn't get why Daryl cared - because it  _did_  seem like he cared. Maybe it was the fact that Glenn (save for Merle, of course) was the only person that could stand to be around him - and that the younger Dixon brother could stand to be around.   
"Why did you come up here?" he asked again, turning to look up at the older man from where he was sitting.   
"You asked that already." Daryl avoided his stare, looking away. The younger man furrowed his brow, not knowing where the barely muted fire in his voice was coming from. "Yeah, and you gave me a bullshit answer."  
Daryl towered over him as he'd been standing the whole time.  _Now_  he was looking at Glenn, his expression inscrutable as the Asian man insisted. "Could've gone out in the woods. Or, you know, anywhere else."  
They both stared at one another in complete silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. Just as Glenn was about to break that awkward silence, Daryl did in his stead. "Could've." he admitted with a nod.   
The younger man didn't even know what he'd expected him to say. What he'd wanted him to say, rather. Daryl was there to stay though: he sat down cross-legged not too far from Glenn, ignoring how the Asian man looked at him as he continued to smoke. Maybe Glenn actually did know what he'd wanted him to say. Part of him was more mad than thankful for Daryl's company; part of him just wanted to get up and straddle the other man, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt to kiss him in angry need. Someone had died that day and now all he could think about was being tightly encased by the arms of the man sitting with him on the roof of Dale's RV of all places and acting like he didn't give a single fuck when he clearly did. Or was that pity?   
  
He looked away with a huff, wondering what would happen if he did get up and kiss Daryl. The thought of ending up with a falcon punch to the gut kind of ruined that mental image though. Good thing the older man couldn't tell what he was thinking about - hopefully.   
Little by little their cigarettes burned away until they were completely consumed. It had seemed to Glenn like an eternity spent in silence. Soothing, rather than maddeningly boring. Daryl didn't move from where he was sitting, except to lay on his back with his arms folded under his head, staring up at nothing in particular. Thinking about nothing in particular too, perhaps: could never tell with him.    
"Uhm, are you staying up here?" Glenn asked after a while. A long pause followed. No response. "Guess you are." The black-haired man leaned back in the foldable chair with a small huff, prompting Daryl to glance up at him and shake his head.   
Glenn's eyelids were starting to feel heavier and heavier, and it didn't take long for him to finally doze off. His light snoring caught the attention of the blond next to him, who sat up to observe him in amusement as he slept.   
  
Could fuss so much when he was awake, and yet looked so damn peaceful when asleep. Taking a closer look, Daryl's eyes fell on Glenn's lips: they looked somewhat fuller and darker, and they were also chapped in a way that suggested the youth had been biting them. Dude would probably shriek if Daryl tried to kiss him - not that he was going to. All kinds of shit would go down if he did, and Daryl didn't even know why he was even thinking about it. It was wrong. All his life it had been wrong. Probably stupid to even go up there in the first place. Wasn't too bad to have stayed, though. Would've gone down if Glenn hadn't fallen asleep: one of them was supposed to keep watch up there, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Glenn, who'd gone from light snoring and an angel-like face to a sound much deeper than Daryl would have expected, along with slightly parted lips from which sooner or later he'd likely drool.   
The older man smirked, taking the rifle so he could keep an eye on things and be ready for action himself. Nothing, however, disturbed the stillness of that night. Even Glenn's snoring eventually subsided.   
  
When the sun began to come up, Glenn woke up all puffy and disoriented and started to rub his eyes, looking around to see if Daryl was still there. Of course he wasn't. He'd half-wished to find the blond still there in the morning. That was stupid. However the hell Daryl saw him, it certainly wasn't that way - and that was for the best too: Glenn would have never heard the end of it - particularly from Merle. He didn't know that the older Dixon brother was precisely the reason why Daryl had stolen in the night (or rather very early morning) and gone back down, just like he didn't know the older man had stayed by his side for the better part of the night.  
Sighing to himself, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and took out the mint candy that candice had given him. It was still perfectly wrapped, shining under the gentle sunlight. He stared at it for a while, hunched over and lips pursed, his eyes glazing over. "Goodbye." he murmured with a lopsided smile, crinkling the wrapping open and resting the candy right on his tongue. That day was going to be another day and tomorrow yet another, but he didn't have to forget. He didn't have to stop himself from caring to survive.


End file.
